The Light of Winter

Things were quiet as night fell across the Northern landscape of Boreas. With winter the night was frigid and the tiny male walked with feathers and fur fluffed up on his body. He was an oddity; a winged wolf and one of two he knew about. Still… meeting Mortis had given Gavroche a renewed sense of hope. He was not alone… and his grandmother had no right in treating him the way that she did. Not that she was around for him to tell… nor would he have the balls to do so.

He wasn't sure why he was still out this late… and he wondered if he should turn around now and make his way back to Runa. If he tried to make it back though would he be alright…? Getting lost in the cold AND dark didn’t sound overly appealing…

...and just as that thought crossed the young male’s mind he caught a scent.

The scent was of a female, younger than he was, and the winged male twitched an ear curiously. There was something familiar about the scent… and that familiarity brought him forward to search for the one it belonged to.

“H-hello?” Gav called into the dark.