metal's awfully chilly on the underbits

Chaos trotted further into pack lands, trying to ignore the ache of new wounds as adrenaline wore off. He could see the appeal of the northern lands here, the same appeal that had led him to claim Fenrir's Maw back in Crew's day. A harsh land tended to make tough wolves, and the icepack was one of the harsher environments on both continents. But the location didn't suit his goals. He needed to be down in the thick of things, nearer the center of the continent in the very hub of activity. He couldn't really drag the pack down south until he got an accurate headcount of who was staying and who was going, though, so he'd need to wait. The former alpha needed a chance to heal anyway - Chaos wasn't particularly fond of the idea of the older male dying because he'd wounded him and then force-marched him south without proper healing. Sure the guy had said he'd join up so it wasn't really forced, but Chaos still didn't need that sort of thing weighing on his conscience. The inconvenient little thing was weighty enough as it was. So with a groan he sprawled out on the deck of his temporary home to survey his temporary little ice kingdom. Maybe if he got lucky one of the healers would decide to stick around and poke at his wounds once they finished with Enrico's.