Phantom Hollow void

He felt it was time to stretch his legs a bit, away from Hoshor Plains and the drama that had engulfed it recently. Notable, important drama...but drama all the same. He sneered at the memory of the pack meeting, and the Khal's young daughter's outburst. She was his only one, at the moment, and he had failed to keep her in line. What would he do when — or if — he and the woman he had chosen as his Khaleesi had a litter? Of course, Rhanno's parenting skills were nothing to boast about (he pushed all thoughts of his traitorous son, Tihollo, from his mind), but he knew he wouldn't hesitate to put an insufferable child back in their place.

His features crinkled again in his quintessential scowl, ears swivelling forward as he looked up to the barren canopy above him. It was too quiet here. Too cold. He was a Dotharan, meant for arid plains and at ease with the sun beating down on his back. This forest was the complete opposite of that. It seemed frozen in time almost — apparently from a time before life itself emerged. The soft crunch of dry leaves underfoot ceased as the man paused in his wandering, ear half-cocked as he strained to hear for something, anything, that lived within the woods.