Heron Lake Plateau Cut my teeth on wedding rings

Hope you don't mind me jumping in :-)

The morning dawned dull as a misty blanket draped over the Isle as if the clouds themselves had paid them a visit. Hunger had drawn him out of his hollow, his recent exploration into the twisted depths of the shadowed forest having boosted his confidence in travelling beyond the borders of Arthendal. He crossed the river in his usual haphazard strokes, hauling his drenched body out onto the opposite bank with a light huff, his ears pricking back as he listened to the goings on of his fellows. He banished the thoughts of turning back now, instead forcing his paws to head south towards a great body of water on the near horizon, this also cloaked in an early dawn mist.

The silence was certainly different to the natural hum of the forest, drawing a sense of peace and serenity to land that lay before his honeyed pools. He slid into a steady lope as he neared the lake, it's waters a mysterious silver in the grey dawn light and he slowed to a slow trot as his paws dusted the shingle that surrounded the shore. The mist had dampened the trails of scents that usually crisscrosses the ground and he cursed inwardly, his ears pricked and eyes wide as he scanned the terrain for even the slightest of movements. Yet the being that caught his attention was not that of prey, but rather the ghost-like silhouette of a wolf, barely distinguishable amongst the fog. "Who goes there?" he barked, his voice echoing across the flat expanse of water, unaware that the canid that roamed this land was a comrade.