Nios had slipped in and out of the lands of Relic Lore – each time he had left, he would swear to explore a bit further, to see what else the world could offer him. Yet each time, he would long to return to the lands he truly called home, and would find himself upon the outskirts, always looking in, longing.
Mirren had settled in a pack without consulting him – it stung, that his brother had decided he needed no input from his littermate, and while the ebony yearling missed him desperately, he also held no regrets of his decision to remain. When he chose a home, he wanted some say on where it would be and with what pack.
Of course, winter had made this process require a swifter decision. His thinning frame was making him weaker each day, and he realized with fear that he was seeing less and less of any potential hunting opportunities. He might have wanted to wait for an epiphany of how he wanted to live his life, but he soon realized time was not on his side, and he needed a home now.
Finding himself on Willow Ridge borders, the young Tainn realized this was his opportunity to do such – and hopefully, find a home that had a well stored cache. Keeping himself a respectful distance away, he awaited, feeling the light snow fall upon his pelt in chilled silence. Uncertain if he should call, somehow, Nios felt it rude to demand the attention of the inhabitants. So he sat. And he waited, as the sun began to descend against the horizon and the sky shifted from pale grey to a stormy blue. Still it snowed… winter was upon them.
'cause its home, but it's gone