When he finally had made it to the river's edge she'd righted herself and the bit of anxiety that had clenched around his chest and heart started to relax. The idea of dragging another from the waters, even if the river was not nearly as bad as Winterscar was, made him absolutely anxious. Before, he couldn't say that he was fine - things happened, sure, but the thought of Svajone or Eira being dead and him recovering their bodies rather than helping them - like what happened with Genghis. From what he'd heard, which wasn't much because he didn't want to talk much about it to others and pry those unhappy memories up and bring them to the surface, it had been futile but they'd done what they could. It had thankfully not resulted in the loss of anyone else, but, there was of course the emotional devastation that hung around them like a thick fog.

Sorrow was cruel, and they all belonged to her for now, caged under her heavy gaze and the sharp claws she kept in each of the wolves of Dawnbreak. The woman stood with a stiff sort of posture, and Vidarr stopped a good distance away, golden eyes flashing as they swept across her. Immediately she asked who he was, and he dipped his head politely, his posture relaxed. These were no one's lands - and so she could immediately be put at ease in that regard. No, no need - these lands are not claimed. My home is Dawnbreak, in the vale over there. He gestured with his head, turning his focus for a moment back to Frostfang.

An ear flicked as he heard his own name, head whipping back around as he squinted. She'd moved closer, and so he approached as well, confusion heavy on his brow. Closer now it was easier to make out her features, and his mouth dropped open, the words he'd almost said lost on his clumsy tongue. It couldn't be - that he might be so lucky, that they might be so lucky, after he'd spent years missing and pining for what he'd lost. His breath left him in a curl of steam that plumed into the night sky. You're as beautiful as the day I lost you. He breathed out before he approached her.

He was gentle as he leaned his head down, tilting it as he nuzzled into her - cheek to cheek like it was just yesterday that he'd gone missing, not the many seasons they'd been apart. Elsku kappinn minn, hvað ég hef saknað þín. (Darling warrior of mine, how I have missed you.)