deartháir mo dheartháir

He’d been investigating the ring of standing stones at the heart of the Moor when he heard his brother’s voice. Now that was a rare occasion. He cocked his head, glancing for the sky. It didn’t seem to be falling or clouding over, and no blue moon appeared. He gave a brief chuckled as he turned, trotting with the by now familiar rear-hopping gait toward the wall.

He slowed, noting that Aurielle and Laisren had already arrived as he slid out of the mist, giving Tornach a grin as he moved forward easily to bump his head into his middle-brother’s shoulder by way of affectionate greeting.

His tail waved easily behind him, continuing to sweep the ground as his haunches dropped to the ground. “I see you’ve met Aurielle…” I just wish you could have met Solveiga and Aramis, too… The wish was unspoken, but a hint of wistfulness lingered on the end of his statement as he took in his brother’s appearance with interest, soaking in the details. “You look well”

His voice carried a wealth of pleasure at the observation, an easy grin forming on his face.