Arrow Lake Blood of my Blood

@Lavakho mild PP if you don't mind. Not using the translator for agility purposes ;)

The time to move the Khalas again had come. It had been good days since they reached the Meadow, but it wasn't sufficient for Rakharo's desires. It still lacked the bison herds he wanted to have, and the expases weren't large enough. He wasn't comfortable there. And when the morning came, the golden Khal greeted it with a howl that called for his pack to gather and follow west.

The mountains were high, and Rakharo hated going too high. The only time a Dotharan was supposed to ge that high was at his funeral, when his remains would be entombed close to the sky and his ancestors. So you may imagine how uncomfortable Rakharo felt by going up a mountain once again.

At the top, ahead of his Khalas for a couple hundred meters, Rakharo stopped to examinate the other side of the ridge. He had surrounded a large lake and was now it was at his back. It was thickly clouded, and his sight couldn't go too far ahead. There was no way to know what was down the hills of the mountain.
"What do you say, Brother?" he asked Lavakho, who had never left his side.