together as one: any

[Longclaw]

LONGCLAW

-I close my eyes, ignore the smoke-

Longclaw hopes to the heavens that he’ll never find Immortality.

Prays, silently, that he won’t end up having to lay his own children to rest or watch his lover fade to nothing. Time steals everything, but when you steal some back oh god how it makes you pay.

The blue warg isn't hidden in his approach but he is cloaked in his wolfskin. He needs neither of those things because Tephra is his home and there’s nothing to fear, but for some reason the tug of his ancestral, second body is too hard to ignore. There is, of course, the security that comes with his power (even the thought stirs a longing to release it for show) but age and first-hand sight has given him knowledge enough to know even his particular brand of flame can be outdone.

There’s always someone faster, someone wiser, someone better. He used to care about things like that.

Now he cares about if his mate is eating enough, (has Wildling fed today? The others?) he cares if Diorae will return to him, (she’d been transformed, but at what cost?) and as he draws to a slow halt near the obviously unencumbered elder, wonders what the spotted stallion might be searching for.

“The Beach is a little further south, wanderer.” He jests. A bit harsh he supposes but his nature can't be stifled with things like courtesy, especially when borders have been casually forgotten. Not that he sees the purpose in them anyways - Claw would revel in the challenge. “But if it’s Tephra you wanted, well … I guess I’m the welcoming party.”

And then, almost reluctantly, “Can I … help you?”