Ghost Lion Crag wilting lotus

His thought that perhaps there was some corner, some nook into which the locusts had not descended proved incorrect the more he snooped around. Even the eastern crag, sheltered by two great mountains, was stripped. Nonetheless, his blunt claws dug into the rugged surfaces of the rocks as he wound his way down into it. He was not alone in this; his nose skimmed across the stone and noted the fresh scent of someone not far ahead of him.

His stay here would not be long, he decided. Cougar scent was also prevalent and he deigned not to be made into a meal of desperation. He loped ahead, coming to a pause as he spotted the female whose path he tread. He woofed to her, hoping to draw her attention.