He had not been deaf to the calls and the songs that rang through the air. Aranck had fallen and Avtandil had started to linger closer to the border of ‘home’. Only he was not completely sure if the moors were where he wanted to be. His time ‘on the outside’ had led him down paths he had been unaware of before. He wanted to explore them and see where they led. As much as he loved his family, he was starting to feel a desire to find his own way. That did not stop him from seeking out his blood at the fall of a tyrant.

The moon was high and his dark body slipped quietly like a shadow along the shores of the river. He was assured in his steps, knowing the way home very well, having skulked around while the ‘king’ had been in power. Such had been his life in the year Aranck had reigned. Biding his time in the wilds and making it any way he could. As a result his body had grown lean and muscled. Lithe and tailored handsomely for a fight. A fight he had never been in. He was focused on following the trail home when a snarl pulled him from his single determination. Instinct and family habit had his fangs flashing before he could logically call them to stop. Jaws snapped just in front of Vasily, closing harmlessly on air in the second it took his steel blue eyes to recognize her. She assailed him with questions and his own ears pressed back, eyes narrowing at her knowing full well he was not going to answer every one of her questions. Around. He answered dryly. I was coming back to find you and Moms. A glare fitted on his face as he started to notice the hypocrisy in her words. What about you? What the hell are you doing out here? Usually he was far more calm in his approach. But he knew his sister to be hardheaded and needed to be spoken to directly. He would show no sign of relenting in conversation with her. Any sign of weakness and she was surely do everything in her power to win an argument.