Frostfire Ridge i'll take it all, rise and fall

Language barrier, ho! :D

The lanky silver wolf had headed north from the govak and the small khalas they had found. He was interested to see how far north these Rhaesh Thash wolves lived. It was the longest he had run from his owner, Rhanno, longer even then his first night in Rhanno's khalas. That night, he escaped from the camp of the khalas, running as far as he could from the khal and eventually hiding in a mound of rocks. He was younger then, and not as smart as he was now, for he had left a clear trail for Rhanno's wolves to follow. As the silver and red wolf strode through the grass, he shivered, recalling how severely he was beaten that day. He still bore the scars from it, hidden underneath his silver coat.

Zoratto continued his northern route through the night and into the new day, only stopping for food and water, as befitted a Dotharan warrior. He was proud of his stamina and speed, which could help a wolf more than strength ever could, though he had that as well. Though the cold mist that still lingered in north Rhaesh Thash was penetrating his coat and making him shiver still. Zoratto was heading towards the mound he had seen in the far north, a white and glittering mountain, unlike any he had seen. The closer he got to it, the more he was intrigued.

But the smell of wolves, although faint, stopped him. He had not encountered a border before; the Dotharan were nomadic after all. The silver juvenile lingered at this border, sniffing curiously at the scents that crisscrossed through the invisible barrier. The wolf smells were faint, all except one. A male, probably older than him. The Dotharan Ezok-to-be snorted and headed into this old territory. He had not met a thash rakh before.