The scent of something bleeding captures Erik's attention, and not far behind that, the scent of his younger brother. Winter had come on, swift and brutal. Though he hoped to find Víðarr by now, it seemed the chase was fruitless. There's far more heartbreak hiding in the north than he knows, but the man pushes the thought down. Holds it back. He'd retire to Hearthstone and come back for a renewed search soon, but for now? The oncoming storm holds him off.

Hot on the moose's tail, Erik instead decides to track his younger brother. Finding the boy with his metaphorical wagons circled and equally as interested in the scent of moose, he squares his shoulders to Björn⁢. "Looks like you made good on your word." There's pride in the bastard prince, grinning at his yearling brother. "I assume the moose was you. If I help your lot take it down, you should let me eat at your table." A glimmer in his orange gaze, already taking off down the blood trail.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Up in arms the moment a strange scent crosses his temporary borders, but Björn⁢ knows that one. He knows it, and he knows it means... well, it could mean news. Though he doesn't ask, and Erik doesn't divulge. There's nothing more or less that he'd be doing, whether or not he had the information. Not so much that he doesn't care, but it... it keeps him safe. Keeps him safe from the monsters in his head, for now.

"What makes you think we need your help?" But his holder brother was already on his way. At this point, Björn⁢ wouldn't say no. Though their relationship could be tense, they're still brothers. With a sharp call for hunters over his shoulder, he too, makes his way down the blood trail. Eyes peeled, nose down low to the ground. Honing in on the beast and its path. Dinner would be theirs soon enough.

"Björn"