Dragoncrest Cliffs i don't love being the person who hides in the garage with her secret crib turkey.

vague about all things in existence

Artaax gave his coat a hard shake as he crept away from Hougeda that morning. The sun had barely begun to rise, but he had slept well enough and had no interest in laying idly about. There was a small ache in his belly that told him it was time to hunt. And let's be honest, that ache wasn't at all necessary - Artaax was always motivated to hunt.

The young wolf crept silently through the trees, steering away from the shoreline and the lake to roam the woods around their Southern border. As always, he was on the lookout for avian prey, though he wasn't feeling as picky as usual about the level of challenge his chosen species would give.