[CLOSED] You're a wolf

[archademode]

WHO: Gabranth and Emet-Selch
WHAT: it's time
WHEN: now
WHERE: Lowtown
NOTES: NA, will update as needed

He helps because it is needed. He helps because it is his sworn duty, because it stems the rising tide that weighs so consistently upon Kirkwall now: between the refugees and the need for resources, between roads no longer quite as safe as they'd once been, and turbulent seas, and news from Starkhaven, and turmoil within, and—

He ferries supplies to the smithy. The donated or salvaged supplies that cannot be saved, suitable only for a fair exchange in raw worth: crate held tight within armored arms, tucked beneath a decidedly unarmored chin, blond hair whipping in a strong dockside breeze, a mirror to the fluttering of his own dark cloak— trailing after him like a twisting shadow.

He passes stalls. Stands. Shivering silhouettes. Hungry stares.

It is the way of things. Only so much can be done.