What is home?

To be perfectly honest Sigmarr wasn't convinced he was awake.  This was a dream.  One strange, strange dream, all of it.  Sooner or later he'd wake up curled next to his mother and his siblings and they'd all be fine and happy and while he was dreaming he'd like to be king of the world and able to fly.  No, this was real alright.  It was too fucking painful not to be.  Sigmarr trailed a fair distance behind Sindri.  She was skitish, she had a right to be and he didn't want to make her feel even more so.  Hell, he'd practically hunted her down.  And then there was the matter of Aerndís.  No doubt she was on the trail and she could show up at any minute.  Sigmarr wasn't sure he could take her in a fight.

Slowly, he lifted his head and for a moment he panicked.  Sindri.. where had she gone?  She had to be right up ahead surely!  It didn't even dawn on him he was almost home.  His mind was running sluggish and slow and so was his body, he urged himself on forward, ignoring the pain in his left foreleg until finally Sindri was in site and…

"Kass?" Sigmarr swallowed deeply before coming alongside Sindri, still leaving a good five feet between himself and her.  He didn't want to come up behind him for obvious reasons.  He was a real piece of work.  A dam monster if there ever was one.  What the hell was he doing here anyway?  If he were half the man he pretended to be he'd leave right now and stop haunting his sister's footsteps, could make up some story that he'd screwed up and she was killed in the pursuit.  And yet Sigmarr didn't move.  He stood still, weary, just waiting to wake up.