beauty on the breeze

Corvus stood near the edge of the bay, sea-green gaze cast across the waters as he focused on the island that lay beyond. His mind was currently on the visit he'd had with Ignis, and what he'd told him about the upcoming raid they were preparing. It was to be used as a training exercise of sorts, but he had a feeling that not everyone would be quite so nonchalant about another pack showing up at their borders and demanding a fight. Abaven was still healing - sure, not physically, not emotionally and mentally - and somehow it seemed like a low-blow for Winterfell to do this do them now, of all times. The fact that Ignis had told him at all made it seem like he was allowed to spread the word... but how? He had to tell Theory, he knew that much, as much as he felt like he was betraying his friend by doing so.

Fuck. If only Ignis had never left Abaven at all. He missed his friend and the current predicament he found himself in made those feelings even stronger. He sighed as he stood, kicking at the sand - only to watch as the breeze from the sea kicked it directly back at him, coating his forelimbs and some even lifting to get into his eyes. He huffed and blinked away the sand as he moved down the beach, trailing after Theory's scent and trying to play out their potential conversation in his head. As Blackthorn, his duty was to be on top of these things... but that didn't mean it was a conversation he was excited to have.