FESTIVAL

ooc: the voice at the beginning is Linne?, Baldur's hallucination of his murdered girlfriend. There's only one actual wolf in this post

"Hurry up Baldur we're going to be late! Oh for goodness sake your fur looks fine? oh wait behind your shoulder? a little to the left? there!" Ivory fangs quickly nipped a bur from silky white fur as the male shook out his coat. His limbs were alive with nervous energy and an excitement he hadn't felt in awhile at the prospect of the festival. It would be his last hurrah of sorts. He'd come to the conclusion it was time for him to return home, especially after his talk with Sigmarr though it still worried him to learn the boy planned to leave as well. But what could he say? He'd made Sigmarr promise to enjoy himself as he would. They would try once more to bury the past and be happy in this moment. And the then winds of fate could carry them where it would. He arrived into an already impressive throng of wolves. The energy was palatable and also a little bit alarming, it dawned on him how difficult it would be to manage such a throng. But all the same, Katja had confidence in this endeavor so he would as well. "I apologize for my tardiness Lady Katja." Linne? snorted. "I'll say you're late, way to go finding every burr patch in Ebony before such a celebration." Baldur laughed lighty, shooting a playful glance at the apparition.