how do i wake my spirit cold ❂ re-intro and takeover

[teef]

DO YOU MIND IF I WILD OUT

AUBERON -- MASC/NONB. -- THE FROSTBLOWN -- SAGE -- MEDIUM DIFFICULTY

echoing of pawsteps upon cold flakes of snow and ice, yellow and green eyes glancing above at snow-laden boughs as the akhlut treaded back into his home territory. scars danced across his shoulders, cloak long tattered and abandoned with the ice-fields from which he descended. paw's finding grip as ice jabbed between his toes at the webbing, a wince on the whale creature's face as he continued on his path. he could rest when he found out what had happened to his beloved group. he didn't remember much, nor did he know how much time had passed since his patrol had left. it could have been days, weeks, months, hell, even years - he didn't know and that within itself was unsettling. tail flicking behind him as he walked, head lifted as he drew in the scents around him. hell. the scents were changed, there were new smells drifting through the air, causing a growl to drift from his throat.

as he progressed further down into the trees of the territory, his gaze flicked up to the mountainside where the fire kissed stones lay hidden from sight behind boulders and massive ice spears. ears flicking back, he would pause to look on with longing for his forge and the nest he had made himself there. closing his eyes against the wind, he would turn his head back to his path, continuing ever onwards, met by a lack of resistance. npcs who looked upon him dared not approach the bloodied and scarred brute, the orange flashes upon his pelt and skin enough to make them wonder his purpose yet quell the courage within them to approach him. clearing his throat, he may take some joy in the startled looks as the npcs scuttled away from him, harsh laughter bubbling in his throat. swinging his head upwards as he entered the camp, he would snort, "the borders are unguarded, yet again. i wonder where that zheng is - they're usually out on patrol. their scent is oddly stale", he would murmur to himself before regarding the thickest trunk with suspicious eyes. bunching his muscles, he would leap up, clawing his way up the tree with little effort, pain ripping through him as his muscles burned from exhaustion, clinging to the tree for a second longer than he wished.

climbing onto the balconies above, he would shake himself out as he once again scented the air, headed for the sage's hut. perhaps he would find the valereader's greenhorn within, in the shared enclosure. pushing through the doorway, he was greeted by the empty and cold hut, his eyes adjusting to the dark with little issue as he pushed his way in. padding to the valereader's portion of the hut, he would bring in the most recent scents, ever stale, before padding to the nest of the sage. confusion on his face, he would pick up a letter from the nest, baalal's scent clinging to it. curling his nose up, the akhlut would sigh as he shuffled about to find a lantern from which he could read by it's light. brows furrowing further as he read on, he would bite at his lip with a low curse, exhaling heavily. the zheng had stepped up as the sage, before leaving at an undisclosed time to attempt to find the missing patrol which auberon himself had been a part of. he would wish to find them, but in his foggy recollection he could pull to mind the image of a collapsed body under a cloak, thinking it one of the patrol from when they had entered the ice field and the cave deep within it.

shuddering as he shook himself off, the beast would carefully put the letter down, running a paw over his face. the zheng was dead, and had left instructions for any returnees of the patrol to take the leadership position. cursing as he sat there by the flickering light of the lantern, he pushed at the grief within his chest - he hadn't allowed himself to grieve the dead when they had died, nor would he let himself now. taking a deep breath to calm the pain within his chest, the beast would get to his paws slowly, nosing about the valereader's small and withering stash of herbs and medicinal aids, silently applying one of the premade salves to the injuries he could reach before covering them with an assortment of large leaves and cotton swathes. padding from the sage's hut, the akhlut would clear his throat before letting out a booming roar, "all members of the frostblown, gather at the sage's hut for an important meeting!", he would then return within the building to light the remaining lanterns to lighten the dark news he would have to share with the group, and the news of his taking over.

#psychosocial.