Neverwinter Forest a distant land caused me to linger

Persistent snowfall ushered him into the heavy wood, the allure of some tantalizing morsel on his mind. The forest would provide the cover he deemed necessary, the early evening not quite turned bitter cold. At least here the wind would have a buffer; no more errant powder snow to smack his face and crystallize there, he'd had enough of that to last a while. But it was also here that he hoped the snow would not be as packed as it had in the open plain, that perhaps there would be something to unearth—figuratively—from whatever icy tomb had sealed it away. Bones would have been nice, but at any rate Dirge would have settled for scraps of sinew turned into frozen jerky.

He had been lucky in that morning to snag a grouse, but it had done little to stay a hunger that had been around for days. His stomach had twisted into knots over roaming bands of ungulates and the energy he expended some hours ago over irritable ravens had not returned with rest. Not that he had much in the department of rest and relaxation either—winter was a hard season. The luxuries he had before were knowingly absent, not that he would have traded another day of derisive treatment for this. He had always gone about things the hard way and well, that wasn't about to change here either.

As he slid beneath the low boughs of an evergreen, he sighed, overtaken by a weariness that waxed and waned as it pleased. Even the snow was cumbersome to deal with at times, the only reprieve being the very boughs he snaked to and from in a disorderly path. He rooted about the base of this one, winding around its broad trunk as though he would stir something from what snow had drifted beneath it. The temptation to settle down for a bit was there, but hunger still remained the primary concern. Rest could wait, he decided.