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Clear, a little chilly     Mistveil     Night       Jakten

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Heimir
Jakten
Statistics
Species
Wolf

Sex
Male (He/Him)

Age
8 months

Height
Average

Weight
Heavy

Build
Athletic

Eyes
Crimson red

Fur
Deep chocolate, cream, Red

Scent
Blood and Musk

Mark of Mythris
None


Posts

Threads

Energetic but short-tempered | Sarcastic
#2
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[Image: 801514a9a3da46016e94a29c63a8f047.jpg]
How long ago did i die? Where was I buried?
3-3-3 OC


Speech Emotional Actions Thoughts

Frigi was awake when Saga came back, though barely by choice.

He sprawled near the mouth of the den with his head resting on crossed paws, red eyes half-lidded as he watched shadows shift along the walls. He'd tried sleeping earlier. Couldn't. Every creak outside made his ears twitch. Every unfamiliar scent crawling through Jakten made irritation simmer hotter beneath his skin.

The den didn't feel right anymore.

Too empty.

The scent of hare drifted in before Saga did, and Frigi lifted his head slowly as she stepped inside. His gaze tracked over her immediately, checking for blood that wasn't hers before he even realized he was doing it.

Then he looked away.

She looked tired.

Not weak — Saga never looked weak — but worn thin around the edges in a way he hated noticing.

At the soft nickname, one ear flicked.

Depends, he answered dryly. Are we actually walking, or are you gonna stare dramatically into the forest for an hour?

The sarcasm came automatically, but he was already getting to his paws before she could answer.

Frigi stretched hard, claws digging grooves into the dirt floor, then shoved past her shoulder as he headed outside. His fur brushed hers briefly, deliberate enough to mean something without being obvious about it.

Cool night air hit him the second he emerged from the den. He inhaled deeply, ears rotating toward distant sounds hidden between the trees. Wind. Leaves. Wolves somewhere farther off.

Nothing useful.

His tail swayed once before settling low behind him as Saga joined his side. For a while, he said nothing. Just walked beside her instead of charging ahead like he usually did when restless energy got under his skin.

Then his voice cut through the quiet.

You're worried about them again.

Not a question.

Frigi kept his eyes forward, jaw tight.

You keep acting like they're all dead already. A pause. They're not.

The words came sharper than intended, almost defensive. Maybe because he was trying to convince himself too.
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