Bitterroot Valley cauldrons

snow licked at lestan's ears, falling in gentle flakes. in the night before, he had grappled with returning to swiftcurrent till dawn, where he fell headlong into a nightmare of fire-deer and golden, whirring wings.
his heart was compelled to go back, but a new and tantalizing wanderlust had found root in lestan. he knew this lands well, and traveled them with smooth confidence, nothing akin to what he had experienced upon returning to his shame and chagrin.
quick trot cut across gathering snow, tongue lolling as he tasted the air and found it ripe with caribou.

So, @Acheron wished for a wife!

It had been a joke, hadn't it? But there was truth in every word of jest; the thoughts had to come from somewhere. And why run away so fast if he meant nothing of it?

A wife! From these lands? Why, when there were plenty of beautiful women whose eyes had lingered more on Acheron these days than ever before - even if he and his sister had always been far better looking than their exiled brother? Eyes that never quite lingered long enough when he turned their way instead.

Sometimes, he thought his friend like his own brother. On days like this, he was as strange to him as the northern stars.

With Acheron gone, Cassius took the opportunity to tend to the matter of scouting the lands beyond the place the duo settled and prepared for the day Atlas would arrive. A herd of what looked to be very large deer drew his favour, and he marveled at then. Had there been anything like these in all of Sunfil?

He caught the silhouette of a stranger next, and though warned of the matter of folk these lands attracted, Cassius judged himself fairly matched (and in fact, leaning in his favour) of things went south.

Cassius flagged the other down with a wave of his fire-touched tail.

so taken he was with the vast herds that lestan did not immediately see the stranger. his startlement was clear in the moments to follow, a flinch followed by a chagrined swing of his tail. "h-have you come to s-see the caribou herds too?" he asked, marvelling as he often did now at the steadiness of his own voice.
"i'm m-more used to following d-deer," lestan explained, as dedicated to the yappery as he had always been. "there was a herd around h-here led by a d-doe with blue eyes. she m-must have been killed or died, but her s-son — he t-took over. strong herd, bigger now."
his gaze danced after the caribou, observing one young bull in particular.