Porcupine Ridge illuminate

@Andraste <3

Zuzuhakte recalled well the legend of Shëktti - of the winter that never ended - having been regaled with it as a dull-eyed child in recovery. 

Lakewater eyes drank in the elevated view, roaming appreciatively over distant peaks and ridges crowned by the straining, bony fingers of resting trees. The occasional patch of green, conifers, glimpsed startlingly from amongst the sea of muted browns and greys - the world gone cold and still, hushed as if its creatures paid respect to the death of the seasons. Or perhaps mourned the hardships and tragedies of their plight. 

Winter was not yet here but already the weather was frigid. Each morn the shaman woke to a numb nose and toes, shivering and quaking as she rose to run the chill from her bones, bathe in what warmth the sun could provide. 

Only late autumn and the land was perishing rapidly, promising an even harder winter. Would this realm too know the era of Shëktti? 

A shudder spasmed along her spine, whether in response to a sudden brisk breeze or her own musings - the Tipani could not be certain. In fact, there was only one thing to be certain of as her thoughts prompted that now familiar ache of loneliness nesting within her ribcage to strike with sudden ferocity. 

She must find a place to winter, soon.