Neverwinter Forest misty eye of the mountain

Sterling had spent more then a week in the forest, slowly collecting his thoughts before coming to the conclusion that another season spent alone would be against his better judgement. The rogue in him had enjoyed the solitude that came with traveling alone, but the soldier in him itched at not having brothers and sisters at his back. The dark man had no purpose as a wandering nomad -- and though he had bartered as he made his way up the coast there was still little that he could do to claim back his title.

The pack had been quiet for some time now, he had been left to his own devices soon after joining their ranks. The misty trail through the forest was absent of others and it seemed that each of his pawsteps echoed through the trees as he moved. Silvery mist swirled about his fur, curving up and away from his maw at each breath he drew in. Slowly shadows grew longer as the sun cut swaths through the fog, and Sterling increased his pace, eager to come upon the borders. He paused a moment to sniff at the rough earth before a sound caught at his ears that had him spin his head around. It made the silver whiskers in his muzzle twitch, his tepid amber eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

He flicked his tail, arching his back and shoulders brutishly before setting off again, a determined set to the line of his mouth. He would spend the morning inspecting the border, learning the scents of what it meant to be a part of Neverwinter Forest.