Whitefish River In the beginning was the word, and the word was...stop.

If you wanted a thread still! @Seff

He'd cut by the Watch, snuck down by the Dome, avoided getting caught on the Plateau - Stark didn't feel like taking on the Wall again, with it's sharp rise and even sharper fall. The one time he'd been up on it he had nearly fallen repeatedly, the gusts of wind enough to take out even the most hearty of wolves. He was out scouting, maybe it was Tambourine's adventures that made him long for the open plains himself. He avoided Duskvale's territory on principle, not wanting to start some issue between the packs when avoiding one another entirely seemed to be a better option. Stark would never yield from the Keep or it's claim, no matter what the cost to himself, not when Octavia remained safely buried in Raven's Watch. 

It left his thoughts a flurry of emotion, swirling and rising in him as he found a steam. He wasn't familiar with the area as much as he should have been but still he longed to put the earth beneath his paws and see what he found for awhile. Stark took a moment, leaning down to drink from the river as he listened to the near eerie silence that accompanied winter.