He needed to find her. It had been two seasons since he had seen her last, since the day Iromar had changed hands under what seemed like rather suspicious circumstances. He had no proof of this of course, but he knew that little flea and the hair she followed like, well, like she had him before would not have disappeared without a trace had it been an amicable passing of leadership. The ins and outs of the hierarchy were of no concern to him however, who ruled mattered little to the solider in him but knowing that irksome, pestering, annoying little flea was safe did. Summer had been brutal and he thought perhaps she might just be keeping safe, but fall had followed and now winter and he hadn’t seen hide or hair of her. It was no ordinary winter either he could tell, ice storms had begun to roll in and only thanks to his experience did he know what this meant.

For that reason he trudged through the snow, attempting to stick to the shallow areas where his large bulk wasn’t such a hindrance. His auburn coat stood out in stark contrast to the otherwise grey white surroundings broken up only by the flash of his emerald gold eyes which made him too easy of a target but he would like to see anyone try him in his current mood. “Little flea…” he huffed, pushing one thick leg through the snow followed by another, “had to get herself lost…” He had been teaching her how to defend herself despite his own misgivings about her need to ever do so but he wasn’t convinced she could. “Couldn’t make herself easy to find…” he growled from between tight lips as he took another step. His grumbling was cut off suddenly as his foot broke through a particularly deep area of snow sending him head first into the drift. This of course only led to louder, more profane growling from the brute as he floundered in the loose powder trying to find his footing again.