Varka had just been near Wolvendom, just walking leisurely to visit an old place he found the most comfort in. That was... until he heard the sound of stumbling footsteps, ones that were smaller and definitely a lot more panicked than the thud of his boots.

He came to a stop near a dead tree when the sight of Razor appeared. Razor had rushed his way through Wolvendom just to find something or someone. When he saw Varka, the two exchanged quick words, leading to the fast-paced journey to the den of Boreas (Andrius).

There inside was a person fighting Boreas. The area was covered in frost and sharp winds, the kind that not many could withstand without falling or being frozen over and swept away with.

There was ice formed in arcs, large ones. The moonlight that spilled through the glowing cryo arches had tinted the battle arena in shades of frosty blue, making the area look a lot more daunting to an unseasoned fighter. Varka never would have thought someone was as dumb or ballsy enough to come here to fight a legend, a god like this.

Varka narrowed his cobalt blue eyes and held a gloved hand out, blocking his face from the harsh winds and ice that flurried through it, watching and calculating just how far he needed to go for this. When he realized the person was a familiar face, his eyes widened, and he stepped to the edge, only for ice to stop him. He saw Andrius standing like the respected god he was and realized that he'd have to do a little more convincing than asking for this to stop.

"Tch..." Varka's brows knitted as he knelt near an ice fixture, observing.