Wolf RPG

The initial idea had him pondering whether to travel north or south, in the end, the decision was spurred by Zephyr’s love of the cold. He decides to leave the Taiga to his mate—the Valley is his to scour instead for soldiers that may fit Hyperborea’s image.
He traces along a familiar path, cutting down through the Taiga and popping around the sharp turn of Morningside Cuesta. He makes for good timing, having arrived in Mudminnow River a few sunsets later and waking to the dawn with renewed energy.
Though the water is unappealing compared to the fresh snowmelt of his home, Kratos laps at the water’s shore—hydration important after all.

A parched throat drove Artax to a riverbank today, although he had not expected to be greeted by company when he arrived. Jorma paused when he spotted the company, startled at first as he tried to cobble together a greeting. Uh, sorry. Mind if I grab a drink, too? he asked with a sheepish grin. Surely this young whippersnapper wouldn't be too bothered by an old man trying to wet his whistle. And if he was... well, Artax would... he would something!