Kismet was perhaps rather fortunate that right now Glaciem had more important things to worry about than he and Soren. With his brother so intent on digging as always, he found himself quickly feeling the desire to go out on his own. He had spent more time as of late exploring the lands beyond Glaciem, meeting up with other Adravendi members and learning the horrific news that his mother was missing. His exploration had soon become a rescue mission, no wonder she hadn't come to find he and Soren, perhaps she needed saving herself.
It was quickly becoming more and more obvious to him that Alacritia was bigger than he ever could have imagined, it'd be near impossible to find his mother and yet still he continued in his hopeless search, stubborn mind refusing to give in. Maybe this was his metaphorical den; his saving grace to keep him sane in the enemy lands, he had little else these days.
There were meetings and training occurring within the lands, though he had hardly dared to attend, not wishing to socialise and blend in with the pack. He was still a member of Valhalla at heart and would have fled in a heartbeat if he didn't think that they'd only come searching for him again. Why on earth they wanted he and Soren so badly he really didn't understand and he hadn't cared to listen. The King was ill though and so for now he could at least temporarily break free from his prison.
He'd fled the North once more again and found himself exploring. How he longed for the days when such adventures were simply the small pup wandering around his island home, it was wonderful that there was so much to see though it was a shame that he no longer held that carefree life of a child. Even in appearance he had clearly grown up, nearing a year of age, the boy had grown quite impressively tall though had yet to properly fill into his lanky form.
The challenge of Fenrir's Maw was a foolish one to take up, and yet for some reason Kismet felt the desire to press on anyway. Higher and higher he climbed, his mind clearing of all but the focus on his steps as he continued to make his way towards the top of the mountain. Finally he reached the top, graced with a wonderful view ahead of him for his struggles. Make that two rewards, he became aware of a second figure who had dared to climb the mountain and for a moment he could hardly believe his eyes. Could it really be her?
It wasn't the wolf he had been searching for, but all the same it was wonderful to see a friendly face. Though he had concentrated mainly upon his family, he had not forgotten his friend from Valhalla either. "Warja" He spoke her name and for the first time in a while a smile would spread across his lips and he approached the small female. Nudging lightly against her, he would move to sit at her side. For now, in the shock and joy of the moment he found no other words, but with an friend and this view however he was more than content to silently savour the memory.
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