This felt wrong. Snowbound gets knicked, the malicious Pitt killing and maiming the inhabitants, and he just runs? Initially, that wasn’t the case, as the wolverine fled to Sunhaven for aid, only to get turned down, barring the paltry herbs given in coverage based out of pity. Following that, the mustelid assumes all hope was lost, living life like a nomad.

Until now.

Why here, one may ask? Why transpose stomping grounds with the people that denied safety for him, along with others? For starters, Sunhaven could perhaps hold their own in a similar situation, unlike his previous home, which fell to the enemy in nothing flat. Also, a group based upon trading surely would have greater a number of alliances over one as isolated and passive as his prior habitat.

One thing he noticed from hunkering by the edge of the territory was how fresh the air was. Snowbound’s gelid oxygen bit at your lungs with each and every breath, whereas the salty ocean spray here provided a relaxing coolness which freed the mind. Also present was an irreplaceable mountainous backdrop, whereas before, you couldn’t see five metres in front of you due to flurries and powder. This place was the prettiest spot he’d ever seen, though the chilly sensation of snow crumpling beneath your paws was an experience Wendell would miss. Oh well, a sacrifice for what he hoped for a better life.

A single shard of negativity remained in his mind following his last interaction with the folks here: would he be welcomed? Assuming that the people from before stuck around, memories about his almost-demands would linger, but as long as they understood that it was for a justifiable cause, harmony would ensue. This time not wandering too far into the clan’s territory, the wolverine took a load off at the rim of the region, patiently waiting for someone to catch his offbeat scent of both Snowbound and his body. Optimistically, his residence here would be welcomed. Optimistically.

An uneasy grin sprung upon his mug as the first of the Sunhaven-folk loomed near, though he was pleased to discover that the elegant she wasn’t one of the few from before. Her minted voice was touched with a thick accent, one that sounded European; which was great, as Wendell was the same, except his dialect was deriving from the British Isles. Names were everlastingly important, so to hear that the pup’s handle was that of some ancient god gave the wolverine a hunch that she’d be doing some cool magic tricks in time. As for his title- "My name’s Wendell, Wendell Harrowsmith, pleasure t’ meet you," he’d introduce in a chuffed manner.

Then, along came a somewhat familiar face, nigh imposing the collywobbles onto him. If the feline-shark hybrid, which by the by, sounds terrifying in a fight, could recount what had transpired that day, there was a chance that drama ensued. That didn’t seem to be the case. Actually, it appeared that he was yet again in the presence of another bearer of a Euro-sounding accent, this time one being recognizable as a concrete Scottish jargon. ”Appreciate the welcome, Monroe,” the mammal began, relying on the mutant hearing his name beforehand, ”I don’t remember you by name, but I think I remember you from... another time.”

To Monroe’s expiring question, he’d wistfully puff. The inquiry had caught him off guard, reminding him of how subversive his actions were in the current situation. No fault went to the asker, he was purely being curious, and it was only fair if the leader was given a proper, honest reply. "I-" he’d sharply withdraw, the answer not wishing to directly exit his system, ”I was gonna go home, but everything was goin’ balls-up- and- I just din’ want to live somewhere where my friends were droppin’ like flies.”

At Monroe’s cue, fibrous limbs carried his physique so that it loitered alongside the mutant on the way to the village. Maybe that Persephone girl would lag forth with them as well.

For Wendell, he’d continue to spew downcast information, yet the fact that a change of leaders since he last interacted with them, and additionally that Snowbound was now faring well without the Pitt, cheered him up a little. ”I believe I need a fresh start, y’know? If I went back there, all I’d get is a load of tosh, and for good reason. I ditched them when they needed help, and blimey, I cannot live there knowing that.”

”But! Sunhaven seems nice! A good part of it is it not being in control by some nutter and his cronies, eh?”