Malestrom

Arcus had to admit his brothers had picked a good spot. He liked to think that it was Glacier that had seen the grasslands and decided to claim it. The lands were large enough, but seemed protected enough that the pack was still safe. Provided a good land border between the rest of the world and their slightly secluded beach. He hummed softly, looking around with his one good eye and sniffing around. Prey scent was distant but there was enough. He tilted his head slightly then, a smirk on his lips. Here he was tresspassing in his brother's land...why not go ahead and steal a meal while he was at it?

But before he could really get into it, hardly even getting a good scent trail, he was forced to stop. The gentle voice of his brother called out to him, calling his name, and he almost felt sick with the familiarity of it. Slowly he took a deep breath and lifted his head, steeling himself. Glacier hadn't seen him since he had left, since he was younger but just as foolish. He took a deep breath before turning towards him, his good eye narrowed. He waited for the look of disgust, or anger, or...well, any reaction. His lips spread in a slow, cruel, smirk as he felt his scars so clearly in that moment. Why had he come here? He sneered, feeling it pull at the cruel twisting of muscle and scar, the mishealed mess that was his face. He had refused to see a healer, and this was the result. His eye overrun with cruel scars, almost grotesque. "Glacier" He rumbled in his deep, seething voice, staring at his brother and just...waiting.

"Burn Baby Burn"