Lost Creek Hollow he came riding from the south side

@Stark

The sun was still low in the eastern sky when the Nord reached the border of the Teekon Wilds. Haggard and rawboned from what felt like ages of traveling alone, he had finally reached somewhere that felt habitable. Above him, the sky bore a muted palette of pastel as a low-hanging stretch of gray began to form. 

Fen traveled through the morning until the sun was high above his back. He could scarcely make out the inviting silhouette of trees in the distance, and he could only hope they would offer sentry from the high and unyielding heat.  

He breached the line of trees that marked the border of Lost Creek Hollow and shade fell upon him. Beneath the shade there was a stream and this time of year it was filled to the brim with strong adult salmon hoping to breed. The Nord's heavy paws  He drew his tongue across his muzzle and thrust his rust-tipped snout into the water. Alabaster cutlery clattered together as his efforts yielded no reward, and he spluttered as his head rose above the water once more.  Damn!