Katja's paws padded quietly over the drifting snow as she ghosted along the border on a lone patrol. More and more she had been encouraging her children to join her, but with Taufr and Raesa both listless and ill she had been content today to let them sleep while she took the patrol alone. After all she'd seen in the south, she feared that her children could be showing signs of that fatal illness, though she had not seen the progression of the disease, just the end result, so she could not compare the symptoms to that of her more lethargic children. She needed to speak with her healers and warn them to be prepared, perhaps even speak with the alphas who still remained in the south to see if they had encountered the disease. With the northern cold instead of the southern wetness perhaps Yfir would be spared... though that was in the hands of fate now. It would not do to put off her warning now that she'd returned, so with the thought come to mind she lifted her muzzle to call her nephew to her side. He was an accomplished warrior as well as a healer, so perhaps he would enjoy sharing her patrol while they spoke.

Exhaustion and age marked the young mans face. Lyndvarr had been out gathering herbs again, stocking his den in an effort to make some headway against the strange illness that was beginning to affect the loners of the area. He’d seen signs of the disease farther south and every day it seemed to be creeping farther north and he feared that the illness that ate at his niece and nephew might be the same. He didn’t know what this was. Pausing, Lyndvarr shifted the herbs in his mouth, ears standing alert at the call of his aunt. Swiftly he answered it, his lithe form winding through the red wood forest til he was at last in Katja’s presence. Dipping his head in greeting he set the herbs at his feet. “Katja, you called for me?”

She continued to wait where she was, taking the opportunity to mull over the various problems that always seemed to crop up when one had a pack, on top of the issues presented by her sick offspring and the dangerous southern sickness itself. She would need to send her hunters ranging out further afield with winter coming upon them, though there would still be prey here for any who knew how to hunt the north. Assuming she could get her hunters to even leave their dens, she noted sourly to herself. She did not have long to ponder the various sundry issues, however, for Lyndvarr answered her call with an admirable promptness, and Katja dipped her head to him in acknowledgement. "Du er godt framover, nevø," she spoke in his native language. "Will you join me on my patrol?

He stood in rapt attention, waiting for his aunt to speak as his mind cycled through symptoms and combinations. There had to be something he was missing. He nodded as she asked him to join her on her patrol. ”Det ville være en glede for meg" He fell in beside his aunt and allowed her to take the lead. For awhile he held silent, unsure what to even talk about. He was having a hard time feeling like himself again and he didn’t want to appear weak in front of Yfir’s leader, whether she was family or not. “Katja, how are you doing?” Walk, "Talk" Think