It was good to be home. The familiarity of the mountains was a soothing balm to the soul, and the normalcy of Daenerys reigning as queen of the mountain once more put Viserion's mind at ease. But the past year had awakened a need in the golden male that he'd only felt in small blips and pulsations as a child. Growing up in such a vast territory as that of Spirane had proved enough for a mind that constantly craved to learn new things. But with maturity and a new sense of the world around him, his often overactive mind had found something to latch onto. Mapping out Moladion in his mind's eye had proved an interesting task over the past year, and he felt that he knew the landscape even better now for having traversed it with his own paws after gazing out across it from the lofty heights of Spirane for three years. Now that he'd had a taste of the world beyond his doorstep, he craved time spent wandering it.

And so he found himself moving away from the pack lands that he had only returned to days prior. Things were slowly settling back into place, wolves returning home who had felt unsafe staying when the usurper had arisen, others departing who could no longer tolerate the instability of changing leaders. Viserion had been curious of the wolves who left, trying to learn of the reasons from observation and deduction alone, but somethings were destined to remain unknown. It would take weeks, seasons even perhaps, for the foundation of the pack to stabilize entirely. Perhaps, if he encountered doubters outside the bounds of Spirane, he could assure them of the future hopes Daenerys held for her pack. He had learned though, that fact and evidence better helped to convince someone of the truth rather than words alone.

Viserion moved away from Spirane and to the south, following the shortest route that would lead him to the crags. It was a place that he had enjoyed spending time during their year abroad, the familiarity of the rocky terrain beneath his paws keeping the mountainborn in him alive. He approached from the north, making his way up the craggy terrain with practiced ease. It was only when he reached their summit that he noticed the way the sky was growing darker in the distance. A storm was brewing off the coast, but it would not reach here before he was able to take cover. As he watched the rolling clouds and listened for the far off sound of rumbling thunder, he realized he was not the only wolf observing the inevitable storm as it approached closer and closer to land. Silhouetted against the stormy skies was a familiar shewolf draped in blonde, with two spots of white adorning the backs of her ears. Viserion's head tilted to the side, curious to see her here, and wondering what had become of her after she had left Spirane. Would she be one to return, or did she prefer her life as it was now?

Not wanting to startle her, Viserion let out a soft bark to announce his presence before walking towards her. If she was receptive of his arrival he would move to sit beside her. "Hello, Yuki," he said, hoping she remembered him from the party he and his sister had hosted on the first day of their two year old spring. An event that had now become something of a tradition, this year hosted by his younger sister, Nymeria, within Diveen. "How have you been?" Unlike some wolves who asked simply out of courtesy, he was honestly curious to know how life had been treating her of late.