Whitewater Gorge do not speak against the sun

@Reigi

There was nothing of interest upon the coast except and endless frost, and Aquila was not the type of beast to be enamored by the layout of the world around himself. There was nothing for him here - the meals were scarce or required too much effort, the water was thick with salt and thus undrinkable, and there was nobody to keep him warm or entertained.

He detoured hastily, seeking out a forest that was further inland to try his luck. As he crept about the shadows of the wood Aquila found himself lacking his usual patience; winter was not a time of plenty even for this mild climate, but there should have been something small and stupid for him to devour. A squirrel, or a mouse waiting out its hibernation - alas, as he came through the other side of the rolling hills of trees, he was clearly lacking any prize.

From there he headed east until he met a river, and there he could at least fill his gut with water and stave off his hunger. The path beyond was unclear from that point further. The gorge was like a massive tear in the earth that frothed with a mighty (some might consider obscene) violence that he found to be appealing as well as frustrating - so he began to scour the descending stonework of the riverbank for a safe path with which to cross.