Cari-boo boo

Grimoire

It had been quite some time since he had been in the North. Ansem had been having difficulties with his disabilities ever since the flood, and had strongly insisted on seeking help outside of the Armada for fear of seeming weak in the eyes of the pack. Despite Grim's protests of leaving without a word, he respected the younger wolf's need for the privacy and wanting to avoid telling his family. After Basilisk took over, Ansem was afraid the Warlord would punish him as he had done some of the others after Sirius left. Against his better judgment, Grim decided to leave with the young male on his journey to heal...acting as his guardian, and now it was time to return home. Ansem had gone on ahead, though Grimoire hung back a bit.

After the skies had turned Red and there seemed to be a disturbance in the lands, it seemed even the North wasn't safe. As he made his way across the territory where the frozen ship remained stuck, he noticed animals acting strangely...the ground appeared to be bloodied. Random holes and shallow trenches dug out. The bellows of animals in the distance. One familiar to his ears. Golden gaze spotted a caribou frantically raking its antlers against the rusted stern of the ship, its face bloodied, legs raw as it seemed to be caught up in some sort of frenzy that was completely out of character for such a creature. What was it doing? The steel of the ship was visibly scarred from the caribou's incessant and relentless rubbing from its antlers. Concerned, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to hunt it...but he couldn't take it on alone. Much less with its odd behavior.

"Grimoire

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