many days and nights he has followed the path of bloodscent, nose flush to the earth.

calyx leaves a winding trail in his wake, often doubling back to the same place once or twice or three times in a manner that muddies his exact direction. but asvardr is nothing if not a bloodhound; a patient tracker.

of one thing he is certain: envy may have evaded him, but calyx will not. he will not lose another ward. another will not leave him as once she had.

at long last the intermingled scents of earth and honeysuckle grow stronger, and asvardr's lackluster pace quickens to an eager trot.

he has always been a subdued man. meager emotions, a quiet sense of content with presence alone. but here he at last has what he has wanted for so many weeks. here calyx is, alive and unchanged.

a crooked smile curves his lips, and his tail begins slowly to wag.