There was a newfound purpose in his life—Misery had seen to that. Larkspur was a simple man, a man who was very much a boy, and he had sworn his life to her. She had asked him so little. Find his woman, keep her safe, swallow his pride and find that stupid kin-cousin of his and join her pack. Fair enough. He would do so, but he would not like having to submit to her and did not intend on making this happen. Still, Misery was crafty and wise and would guide him. It would not hurt his chances that he was still an incredibly strong wolf, and a remarkably capable hunter.
He took the horse to find her, traveling west. There was only a vague destination in mind. Misery had pointed him towards her, but the rest would be up to him. Larkspur exhaled into the cold air and watched as snowflakes fell from the sky. They would need a pack. Without it, both of them would perish. He knew this in his bones, and it frightened him.
The black figure stood out amongst the taller hills and the flurries like an out-of-place shadow. From below, Larkspur did not need to guess who it was. “Eris,” he barked up at her, his deep voice carrying itself over the wind.
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