Hoshor Plains The Golden Sun

Rakharo is exploring to find a good place to settle the main camp.

It felt like home.

He'd missed feeling the tall grass brushing past him as he ran on the open fields. He'd missed the thundering sound of the Bison's hooves, making the earth tremble. He'd missed the open sky and the sun with it's warm caress. And now he'd gotten all of that back, in a new land, free from all the blood of his family that his own father had spilled because of fear. This world was now free from that pathetic wolf who made himself called a Khal, he didn't deserve the honor, and in the new land Rakharo had been promised, he was free of those memories too.

The first place where Rakharo had seen the plains was the Greatwater Lake, but now the Khalas had moved to explore the vastity of the terrain they now called home. Rakharo himself was being the one who led the herding for the first time in many moons, and everything now felt like it was supposed to. But something was still missing. Rakharo decided it was time for the Khalas to finally find a place to name their camp, a place they would always come back to tend their wounded, to birth their offspring, to guard like their palace, and so far no place seemed appropriate.

The golden Khal, followed by the bright sun above him, retreated from the group to explore the verges of the mountains that would forever be their sentinels, hoping to find a stream that would lead him to a greener and peaceful place. As he walked on, the grass started to look greener, and the vegetation thicker. That was the way the first Khalas had found Kraza Dothar, and Rakharo would do it all over again, for his new Khalas.