Now The Pale Morning Sings Of Forgotten Things

Álarr settled back in the familiar territory of Fireside after escorting his young cousins to the Rio Grande and lingering while they got settled in. He still planned to move between the pack and the Rio Grande as time allowed and necessity demanded. For now he had the day to himself. The sun was just rising above the horizon, casting its pale light across the Range. Álarr flopped down next to the barn to watch the sunrise. Afi curled up at his side to continue his cat nap while Brynhildr fiddled about with some sweet grass. Using her beak and talons she wove the blades together in a long braid.