aren't you tired of all of the violence inside of you?
son of ava and covet, son of nowhere, guardian of no one
Oh, he knew Asteraia's scent. It had been all over Jinx and all over whatever idiot had tried to stalk him out in the tundra - had the guy really thought himself good enough to find a wolf who had been surviving out there alone for years? Pack wolves: Abel had definitely been right about them. Loud, foolish, convinced of some superiority they didn't even have. It was all very annoying and yet the thing that annoyed him the most is that he didn't understand why. So, that's why he had arrived on the northern borders of Asteraia come the rise of the midday sun.
He had sheltered beneath one of the few outlying trees though it did little to stop the sleet that drifted through the sky; its leaves were dead, hardly able to hang on, but he was thankful for it anyway. Truly, it was more of a pain in his rear to move about in the winter months. He'd already done his best to secure caches of food and find hollows to hide in but even then he had considered just migrating towards the inner region of Moladion. The forest, maybe? But then he'd be further away from Jinx and he did feel as if he owed her some kind of...well, something. He wasn't sure. He still hadn't worked out his feelings - or hers - yet.
But he didn't call for her. Instead, he just focused really hard on her: her face, her scent, her aura. If the imprint business was real, she'd feel that right? He'd even help her out - he thought of where he was, the position of the trees, the rocks in the distance. Part of him wanted to really test the idea of an imprint but the other part? Well, he was miffed. Had she sent the stranger after him in some strange attempt to keep him here?