The days had been rather dull – how many had passed since he… no. He would not dare think about his sin now. Ranjord had been peaceful enough, even if part of Starfall. He knew many wolves that could not so easily get out here without wings or the affinity for water, he himself was lucky enough to be blessed with his shark aquatis in his time of need on Starfall Shores. Ranjord was his to be his new life – from what he was aware, he had nothing to go back to the mainland for. Of course Pontchartrain was worried for his living children, but had no clue where they all might have gone. He sighed, laying his head between his paws as he rested outside of his rocky, coastal den.

The Russian-blue male’s sea blue eyes landed on the soul-strand connecting him to some other wolf. It had been there on his chest for a long time, but unfortunately, Ponty had not given much thought to it. He was with Skadi before, a beautiful lass but also the daughter of Beartooth. He had to accept it was doomed from the start. Sure, his mating with her helped with his ranking and respect, given that it seemed he was one of the few Tarben members without dire-wolf genetics, but they didn’t feel as passionately about each other as a soulmate might. He sighed, not being able to imagine what the lass on the other side of this strand was thinking.

Then it started to move.

If it had a tangible form, it would have pushed aside the blades of arid grass that lay in front of him. Sure, it had moved a few times before, but nothing as significant as this movement. He slowly stood up, still watching this strand as it appeared to move…closer? Was his soulmate coming to him, to Ranjord? No, that would be silly. Why would she wait until now? He wasn’t able to go to her sooner because of outside reasons now, and mate reasons before, but what triggered her to travel? He began to worry about first impressions, what she might lash out at him about, how she might react to his delay and past…Ponty shook his head, trying his best to dismiss those thoughts. His sea blue eyes glanced back down, noticing a significant difference in figurative tension on the strand – it looked more relaxed than it had, or was that his imagination? His ears perked at a chilling howl from the coastline opposite of his den – calling for her soulmate, who Pontchartrain could only assume was himself, to meet her at the ‘border’. With a deep, yet nervous breath, he worked his way towards the source of the call.

When he broke through the tropical shrubbery, his sea blue eyes laid on a beautiful, winged lass, standing strong. He had to pause for a moment to adore her, even if she was annoyed, but that was short-lived as he had to analyze the several scents entering his nose, the most distinguishable…no. No no no no NO! His sea eyes darted to a bundle of fur next to his soulmate, two girls with similar coloring to each other, but nothing close to the mother’s. Skadi’s scent was on them. What happened since he left? How did this lass find the children? Was she a new member of Tarben or in alliance with Tarben to collect him to pay for his crimes? That didn’t make sense – why would she bring the children? Surely not for fear purposes, right? She also didn’t smell of Tarben, more…Amberjorne? No, those two packs wouldn’t form an alliance, right? The internal turmoil he was feeling was overwhelming, causing his hackles to slightly rise, but Pontchartrain remained looking down. He needed to be grounded to something. Anything. Was this a nightmare? Surely it had to be. Pontchartrain felt that dark inner beast banging on the door to his brain to let him in, let him in, let him in, the words pounding in his skull. He could not even think about what could be going through her mind as he had this mental turmoil.

The only words that left his maw, laced with cold, sharp, and defensive tones were: ”Why are you here?” He lifted his sea-blue gaze from the ground, the glare not breaking as he slowly moved into a defensive pose, mist slowly seeping from his body. Being the acting Delta here of Ranjord now, it was his duty to teach others to fight, but he needed to hone his own skills too, if it was an attempt to collect their dues for his treason. What a low way to go about it, too. Despite his hackles being slightly raised, no growl or snarl came out his maw.

Actions & Words.