Stavanger Bay maybe they'll keep this snarling heart contained

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South. Ravus continued along his chosen direction once he'd cleared the Dragoncrest Cliffs, following along the coast. His fishing skills were lacking but the seagulls were not though they were hardly enough to fill his belly they took the curve of hunger away. During the continuation of his journey he ventured inland to hunt something with more substance to it though the chilled winter winds and snows had the woodland creatures seeking shelter and warmth in their burrows. His specialty was tracking and that made it a bit easier for him, but also in big game. The once ceremonial commander of the hunt was no fool and knew that on his own he could not take down big game, yet of course it was venison or elk that he hungered for. Just the thought of the succulent, warm flesh and meat had him salivating. He'd came across the tracks of a herd near the Totoka River and though by habit he kept it in the back of his mind he continued south, knowing that he could not instigate that hunt.

The afternoon was chilly, and Ravus' shoulders hunched as moved through the sands of the Sea Lion Shore, the sand dusted with snow, cold and heavy as he marched through it. In the near distance an arch of cliff worn by the sea could be seen, and the pungent scent of a pack was carried upon the salted brine of the sea as it whipped around his face. The scent of the Glaive was long gone from him, replaced by the tangy scent of the sea and salt in the stead of cedar that had once so strongly clung to his fur. Cor's scent, too, was gone from his bastard son, relieving the king of the hassle of explaining to his young and growing children why the commander of the hunt looked eerily like their father. Bastard was not a title, whispered or not, acknowledged or not that Ravus ever intended to carry for long. Here, his parentage didn't matter.

His steps slowed to a cease as he approached the towering rock arch, noting the black stones and urine scents to mark out their borders in the golden sands. He kept his distance, and compelled by an urge that he didn't investigate too much he lifted his muzzle skyward and let out a howl to announce his presence.

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