boots with the fur

What was he going to do with dad? His condition had deteriorated, getting worse by the day. By the minute. There was something wrong with the old man, and it was far more than physical. Tenshi's passing had crippled Víðarr in ways far deeper than Erik knew or understood. The man who'd treated him as a secretary and gopher, while trying to at least engage in some fatherly behavior, was nearly unrecognizable. Hell, had Erik ever really known him? The cursed boy didn't know. Couldn't place it. Couldn't understand it, even if he tried to. Erik missed his mother, though there was comfort in the idea that she was safe.

Stashing the old man away just outside the Hallows, Erik refused to go door knocking in the middle of the night. Satisfied that Víðarr would at least somewhat stay put, he ventured out. Searching for dinner, searching for... anything that might give him answers. A cold knot in his chest as he wanders south. Wanders and wanders, hell if he knows how long. Deeper into Auster, the lands he'd known as a child. Stopping to scent the air for prey or danger, and finding neither of any consequence.

What does draw Erik's attention, however, is a very familiar presence. As the boy draws closer to his sister, the scene before him is... unsettling. Morganna staring down three sets of eyes, beasts that had seemingly taken over her den. "Trouble always seems to find you," his voice gravelly, harsh, but tone holding some humor. A wag of his tail and a rakish grin playing across his face, Erik steps up to stand by her shoulder. "Make this'n a fair fight, two of us and three'a them?" Rolling his shoulders forward and readying himself, but he'd go on her count. They could catch up after.

"Speech"