Blacktail Deer Plateau Sometimes you're the train, sometimes you're the track

The flatlands stretched before him in undisturbed silence, oblivious to the carnage found in its neighbouring lands. Malachi had only seen the twister from afar, as the clouds had gathered in a funnel that wretched from the sky to tear up the ground. But though the twister had evaded them, the Plateau had not been completely spared. Strong winds and torrential rains had accompanied the beast, and had buffeted their home with relentless force. The skies had long quieted, the rains held back, but Malachi didn't count the Plateau free of danger just yet.

More than a few faces of rock lined the Plateau's northern border of sheer mountain stone. The walls were a protection, but Malachi knew how quickly they could become the pack's undoing. Any patch of unsteady rock could signal disaster if a downpour came again, and even one dislodged stone could cascade into a landslide if pushed by a steady stream of rain or a misplaced step. In the past days he had pinned numerous spots to keep an eye on, places he deemed a potential source of hazard. So far he had kept these things to himself, but the need to let Dante know prompted him away from the mountains and set him on a steady course along the border of the Plateau. With the increase of patrols in recent days, he was confident he would at least meet someone who could direct him to the Alpha's whereabouts.