Kaprasíus already knew that they would be moving north. Not only had Katja told him, but the gods themselves had shown them the way when they had seen the lode-star speak to them. Though their message had been a silent one, it had spoken louder than words ever could.
Though the journey north was not an easy one, he wouldn't have expected anything but for the wolves of Yfir. The southern wolves had proven to be disgustingly soft-hearted and weak, time and time again, and once again they would return to the inhospitable lands from which they were more familiar. Here they could quickly weed out the few that did not belong with them, especially as they struggled to endure the winter months. He couldn't help but wonder how many of them had ever known true winter.. and how many might wish they'd never come at all.
Though they wouldn't travel in a tight group, he would remain close to Katja, within reach if he was needed. He had made the decision to swear his life to her -- for the gods had proven, time and time again, that it was with her that he had to stay -- and he intended to make good on his promise.
When they finally came to a halt, he would lope closer to the group. The bush viper that had traveled on his back finally slithered down and wrapped herself around one of his limbs, seeking warmth beneath his chest, finding the cold climate rather unpleasant. His eyes would search the group, finding them mostly unfamiliar, until finally settling on Katja. This sure felt like a place he could call home. A grin finally stretched his lips into a pleased expression as he settled to the earth and waited for what she might have to say to them.
WARNING: Kaprasíus is extremely prone to violence, including maim fights & character claiming.
Katja is also welcome in any and all of his threads, without warning.
He also has a bush viper companion named Jǫrmungandr.
