Emberflame Ridge Microwave a cracker

The brute ambled his way north-east, snuffling up any food he finds. The sun glinted his blueness and lightened his jade eyes; who knows why he left the Vale, perhaps he’d return soon. He slowly came across orange and red crisps. Autumn leaves. Surely this meant food, so Kovertol increased his pace as much as he could be bothered to and directed his engergy towards the rise of changing trees. 

He entered the thicket, head down to the ground and pushing leaves out of the way; mushrooms were his goal. He grunted happily as he snapped some up and hurried along again to find more. For anything to disturb him, especially when he was happily minding his own business, would end badly; for them at least.