Stone Circle capture me with your legends of old

He's just outside, on neutral ground (:

This wasn’t the first pack Iovan had found since striking North, but it was another, and he wouldn't have stopped if the aesthetic hadn't made him pause, paw hovered in mid-stride. Sparse grass poked through the snow here and there, but he could imagine the place in the summer, when the breeze would dance through the long grass and conjure up smells and memories they'd remember through fall. This was a place that heroes would come from, and he danced a giddy gaze along the hills. Imagine, if a warrior of old would come rushing down to greet him now! He would bow his lowest bow - which he partially sank into already - for what was he, to stand before a legend?

Somewhere down the meadow, a herd of bison grazed about, but even here, the ground practically oozed of their scent. Thankfully, the pack wolves seemed to keep this place well-marked. With a flare of his nares (he stifled a grin), Iovan could distinguish the scent of the locals without a hitch. Plenty lived here - and though he could already tell Zenith wasn't among them, he tipped back his head and called out a greeting to those who lived within. Perhaps among them he would find a hero - or some kind of clue to where his sister might be.