Tyr's hesitant pawsteps fell as he moved once more toward the heart of the packlands. His encounter with his brothers... with Baldur had driven him to hide himself away for a time, lurking at the edges of the packlands... like the coward he was. He hadn't had a positive epiphany and come to the conclusion that he was secretly a good person, hadn't gained confidence, and hadn't returned to rejoin pack society. No, Tyr felt no better about himself than he had when suddenly confronted with his adoptive littermate, confronted with his guilt, confronted by the sight of the brother he'd betrayed.
He was calm now, though, as he seated himself on the cold ground and steeled himself. Mismatched eyes gazed dully down at equally mismatched paws. His thin coat had always done little to keep out the winter chill, but his time here had given him some small reserved of fat beneath a pelt thicker and silkier than it had been in his life. He had it good here - but he was not meant for such things. Ready now, he raised his small head and sent up a call for a high ranking member of Valhalla. Erani, or her betas, it didn't matter which. It was time.
