May 16, 2020, 05:46 PM
A noisy exhale stems from his nose, huffing akin to an elk catching wind of a predatory scent. Large paws shift upon the Pale, the ghostly plain stretching out with fog ever present—the partly cloudy sky and dimmer evening bringing a gloomy grey to settle over the atmosphere. The sun boy has his head low, nose sniffing, golden eyes searching. Hoofprints are pressed into the earth in front of him. A scrap of velvet on a nearby tree along the edge of the open plain. Helios steps forth, careful to keep from trending directly over the fresh prints.