Horizon Ridge shadow runner

♥ edit. i am a derp and didn't see that this took place in horizon ridge so i'm really hoping that this is on the border between the two territories lmao. if not feel free to poke me and i'll fix this post up. c:

Looking unkempt and every bit wild as he felt, Drogon, for no particular reason, travels along the coast, lingering on the outskirts of the sea: close enough that the salty brine was still prevalent upon the winds but far enough away that he cannot hear it. The tundrian finds the sea to be loud and is not overly fond of the sand that sticks to his fur or the sticky feeling of his fur after he’s spent a few hours on the beach ( though, admittedly, salt water is quite useful for washing away any distinct scents he may have accumulated ). He’s been to every region in the Teekons at least once, or if not every region then most of them, at any rate and it’s not as if Drogon has anything better to do than to wander. He’s become little more than a mercenary for hire these days; but despite his youth and lack of pack he is not malnourished. Thinner than he should be, surely, but he can hunt well enough for himself ( though acknowledges that with a pack he would gain the weight to fill his bear-like build out with rich deer and elk meat, or whatever large prey they could take down! ) to eat until his belly is full and sated. He eats as much as he can, sometimes even getting lucky enough to fill himself off a disregarded carcass. There had been a elderly elk the other day, picked at by the crows but luckily, remarkably more than enough meat upon it to fill him.

He is lucky now because prey is still in abundance but summer is waning: he can feel it on the teasing chill that permeates the air. Fall is coming and whether it will be kind or not is unknown to the nomad. As he tears at the meat he had stashed away, in an massive sequoia that brought back feelings of unexplained familiarity and a sense of home that he does not bother to try to understand, to remember the ravens perched overhead rose their voices in shrill, loud caws that alerted the tundrian to the other’s presence. Ears cupped forth, attentive atop his skull, lips curling and peeling back from his teeth before he polishes off his meal quickly ( not wanting to have to share it, the brat ) and seeks to find whomever had alerted the ravens to their presence.

Despite that the man was cloaked in shadows it did not take the sotapäällikkö long to find him and as he does Drogon deliberates for a moment, just a heartbeat of a moment before letting out a low chuff to alert the older man to his presence as glacial gaze follows the man's movements as the stranger strides forward to mark the sequoias as his own. Staking a claim, Drogon realizes.