In true northern fashion, Rougaru found he was not left waiting on the border unaccompanied for long. He had expected Warsaw to greet him, had been searching the woodlines where his friend often made his way down the well worn path... but it is not Warsaw who appears. A single ear rotates sideways, the only visible sign for his confusion. Though he doubts Bjorn would offer him nor his son any harm, instinct draws him a step forward in typical fatherly protectiveness.

Where once there had been some semblance of peace between them, now only the cloud of suspicion as the smoke colored stallion comes to stand defensively upon the borders. Ears lay backwards amid the water logged tangle of his own mane as Bjorn speaks, his words not quite as veiled as one might expect. Instinct draws the wolf forward, its ears pricked and eyes glued upon the possible threat that lay before it. Hackles rise along its spine as muscles tense beneath the chocolate stallion's own skin. "So.... you abandon us to the war and turn to take away the defeated king's kingdom? Your own ally?" he questions, careful to keep his voice even and the anger that boiled hidden from his words.

Lips peel back from yellowed teeth, foreleg stretched forward in languid fashion as the beast makes to rake his blunt fangs over an invisible itch. For a moment he remains silent, his whiskered muzzle inches from the ground, letting the weight of his words linger in the air around them. After a few moments, he brings his gaze up, rising to meet the new Inlet king with steeled gaze and mask of indifference. "Your loyalty knows no abounds." he adds, a wolfish smirk to his lips. Thick skull tilts now, as his fierce gaze travels beyond Bjorn to the snow encrusted lands beyond. "I have not seen Nyimara for some time now. She with you still? Or did she abandon you to this frozen land and the enemies that pile up on your doorstep?"