Dread knows he should go see his father. Knows he should speak with him, man to man. Hell, he could show off the new scars, too. The scrubby, worrisome boy had grown up. Grown into a man. Grown into himself as ornery, possessive, a hardass. Grown into a shining example of what not to be, and he loves himself for it.
He'd put off stopping over in the Hallows for just a little longer. Cutting wide around the castle, not feeling particularly social. Not feeling social enough to put on a mask that makes him look socially acceptable, especially around the family he's been pushing back against for some time. Instead, he strolls south. Gait long and lazy, head high. Cocky. Relaxed. No need to wear a different face out here, expression hanging between a sneer and resting bitch face.
Lip lifting to show off his teeth as he catches the scent on the breeze. Ethne. The southern edge of the shore butts up against the pack, and curiosity brings him to that line. Sniffing carefully, pacing the imaginary edge between the two spaces. What had changed, in the weeks since he'd been down here last? Pacing, head low to the ground, predatory. A shark in the water.
Bard
