�ingvellir (YFIR)

He had promised Katja that he would aid her. The gods had shown themselves to her, and it was obvious to him that he needed to be with her now. For how long though, he did not know. His interests were often fleeting at best, his presence never something entirely permanent since he'd left his family so many seasons ago in search of Jaeger; but his faith was unwavering and true. Would she trust his promise to defend her and Yfir? She seemed less unnerved by his presence now, perhaps even a bit grateful to have family at her side, two believers in a land of heretics and blasphemers.


Her call was unsurprising and the tan-pelted male would quickly respond to it, lankly limbs carrying him swiftly to the gathering. He was significantly later than most, his posture unreadable as he darted between wolves to sit near Katja, dipping his muzzle low to the ground in a slightly grandiose bow. His gaze would dance across the group, all entirely unfamiliar to him. The man's nose would twitch gently as he tested their scents, finding no recognition in any of them, before settling down near Katja. She would begin to speak, telling them of what she had called them for, and he felt a slight smirk playing at his lips. Despite the excitement that welled up inside the belly, he was silent and still, save for the slight twitching of his tail against the ground.