Distant Battlefields

About damn time Acere got on with things. Kai had been waiting what felt like ages for these godforsaken raids to begin, to fulfill his end of the promise he'd made with Acere. Aid Winterfell with two raids, and then he'd be free, no longer tethered to this place. It felt eerily like his life had been put on hold for these last few seasons, and for what purpose? Literally nothing. He had accomplished nothing and he couldn't shake the feeling that his time here had been pointless - he had not been worth whatever Acere had paid for him, and in the end nobody had gained anything out of this. Perhaps he ought to be grateful but he couldn't help but wonder how things would've gotten differently if someone else had bid more for him, though he didn't blame them for not; there were few wolves in the world he'd pay such a hefty price for, if any at all.

He let out an audible grumble as he made his way through the pines, toward Acere's call. He didn't sound pleased in the slightest though Kai didn't blame him, even if he didn't exactly care to entertain his foul mood for long. His own displeasure was written clearly on his features as he drew toward the group that had gathered, though he hardly paid anyone any attention. Kai had only spoken to a few wolves in the pack and since he'd hopefully be gone sooner rather than later, he wasn't about to exert any energy to getting to know anyone else, not unless they really caught his attention.