Staying Ahead of Winter

Aureus' sudden death had left him feeling adrift and bereft, but more than that, it had filled him with a deep, mad rage. He couldn't simply abandon Aerie, as much as he wanted to walk away and just keep walking. The world couldn't take any more from him if he didn't have anything more to take. But he had made made Aerie his responsibility and he couldn't abrogate that responsibility when they needed him most, even though that very need felt stifling and infuriating at in his grief.

He hadn't even been able to think beyond the more immediate pain to the fact that with Aureus' death, they'd lost their best warrior, and their only Mantle. Eventually it would have occurred to him, but it was brought to mind abruptly when the howls rose from the border, and for a split second he thought it was a raid. Even through the red haze of grief his mind kicked into analysis, weighing who he would be able to field and coming up short. They simply did not have enough warriors to put up more than minimal resistance.

He stood a moment and swallowed back his emotions, tucked them into a leaky barrel marked "explosive, do not touch" in the back of his mind, stood with his eyes closed until only a trace of his rage contaminated his gaze. It wasn't a raid. It was just two wolves, calling for the alpha. He wouldn't be getting into a battle here today (how unfortunate).

With his rage under tenuous control, he strode out of the canyon for the lake border. His gaze, colder rather than his usual neutrality, flickered over the pair waiting there. They carried with them travois filled with a variety of items of interest. Traders? or travelers seeking a home? "Good morning," he lied, for politeness' sake. "I am Eligos Abraxas, Tiercel of Aerie. Can I help you?"