3/26/2025, 2:47 AM
eight? months
Asgeir's meanderings had pulled Sverke free of a nap. He wasn't complaining, which was why Asgeir was currently safe from his twin's more fanged methods of communication. Instead, he followed at a comfortable distance. The lilting movement of his own smooth, easy trot, keeping the bright gold of his sun-gilded brother in his sights as he moved, was so soothing to Sverke he thought he might fall back asleep like this - eyes open, still walking, secure in the knowledge that that which he cared for most in the world was only a leap, a bound, and a bite away from his grasp.
The midnight Prince's tail was loose by his ankles, a half-sleepy look on his face and his fur still smushed out of shape on one cheek. He looked less of a prince, and more like the very visage of a freshly-woken teenager - dour expression and all.
He was, however, much more than just an unruly juvenile: proven in the way the boy straightened and his two-toned eyes glinted with a predator's keen intellect the moment his twin's call alerted Sverke to something ahead that had prompted their joint investigation. His loose jog hastened slightly, cresting a dune of his own to spot the shape of a dark sable shadow mired in the falling dusk.
One of the newcomers to their borders. Sverke's maw stretched into a languid, toothy yawn as he continued on Asgeir's trail, curling his tail up from where it had rested to sway lazily and confidently even with his spine. He'd let the brasher twin take the lead on this one - was this a welcoming committee or a hazing ritual?
