It had been a quiet and peaceful stay here in the Fujiwara Dynasty. A strange feeling to be had after running for so long. Gekirin had finally made a den within the inner most parts of the territory. The giant had been sleeping soundly for the first time in many moons, gently waking to the sound of a storm coming to an end. He hoped that it would be the last of this frigid weather, hoping to see the beauty of this place that Izumi had talked so much about.

Yellow eyes peered out from his den, noticing the fresh snow that now blanketed the world outside. Yet despite the cold and thick snow, he found it to be a good idea to get out and stretch his legs. Perhaps he would try to find some food for the pack in return for their hospitality. It's what mother would have wanted him to do any way. Thoughts of Toorima came back to him in little bits and pieces. She had been equally a thorn in his side, but also a happy memory. A thorn in the sense that her legacy would always shadow down on him, pushing him to thrive and live by her example.

But she was never a terrible mother, only distant and filled to the brim with her own troubles. He wondered if that was why she had a hard time keeping tabs on the kids she had before he was reunited with her. If that was the case, no wonder the others turned out the way they did. Still though, it was hard to get her attention and to prove to her that he had what it took to lead, to survive. Now he was here trying to move on without her and without his old pack.

A legacy now forgotten by all but him, fading to the winds as easy as he drew breath. Gekirin took to the outside, placing each large paw into the snow with a soft crunch. The air was cold and had a snap to it. It filled his lungs as he took in a deep breath, a yawn escaping his lips as he stretched then shook out his coat. The black behemoth then went about his day, ready to explore the surrounding areas and search for food for his temporary kingdom. Then again, maybe he would stay here after all.