Bearclaw Valley salt trap

The albino’s return was a fairly uneventful one, no notice given when he slipped back in and down the Boulder Path; he’d rubbed the side of his face along one or two of the boulders on the way down, reinforcing his scent markers. He had half a mind to even situate himself there for a bit, though that was more so to rest his body than anything else. Ultimately, this did not happen, as he continued down into the valley. Heading then towards the treeline, he planned to find a nice place to lay down and give his legs a break, his most recent journey having taken a greater toll on his body than previous ones; he’d gone farther, wandering beyond the bounds previously set in place for himself by fear—fear that he had begun to shed, no longer allowing it to control him.

Catching movement in his peripheral, he slowed and turned his head, spotting a dark mass not too far off—Sif, he was sure, after getting a good look. After a moment of pondering, he abandoned his current plan and headed in her direction instead. “Hey,” he called out before reaching her. “What are you doing?” Other than stretching, he wanted to add, but never actually said anything. Truthfully, he knew little about her and the others that had arrived with Wardruna, having not put any effort into getting to know them. Which, now that he thought about it, probably didn’t reflect well on him.