skill: curator 1/5 (BWP)

He had ice that clung to his coat in places, tugging uncomfortably at his skin with the unfamiliar weight. He had been full of such feelings - like he'd felt when nestled in his mother's embrace, sleeping safely and soundly. It had felt like the warmth had radiated from within him, he felt warmer than any sort of summer nap with the sun on his back. It felt like everything wasn't covered in ice and snow and instead there might be a positive outcome to the threat of the world imploding.

He had left him feeling so empty the moment he was outside it's range, and even the pretty stones he had carted back and forth slowly and dutifully from the Howling River to his den where he'd left them with the others. Maybe he should have made his little spot more protected and guarded. Maybe others stopped by to admire his stash. Too bad he hadn't been there to actually talk to them about his treasures. The hunter turned the moment he'd heard his sister call, trotting deeper into the territory to find the gathered wolves. He set down the quartz and then sat down.

He only heard parts of what Vidarr had said but he knew why they were all there. He chewed a clump of ice off his forearm, his fur had the more silken texture from Olive. He still felt so cold - the absence of the pink fire still left him feeling raw and so empty that it was almost difficult to direct his attention again to the Pillars.