Heron Lake Plateau now i'm here

Once again, that thunderous monster from the sky had descended upon him and he had been drugged and probed by those weird aliens, only this time they had taken away the thing around his neck. He was grateful, he supposed, but the whole ordeal — which he had been through twice now — had left him disoriented and confused. The one good thing that came from it, unbeknownst to the boy, was the fact that they had treated the wound on his leg given to him by the Sunspire wolves; it had been shaved and stitched, an odd thing to see on a wild wolf.

The fur had partially grown back now, and Redshank was none the wiser that he had even been given the life-saving treatment. In fact, all thoughts of that particular experience had been repressed tucked away into the recesses of his memory in favour of more recent decisions.

Despite the fact that they could barely keep just the two of themselves alive, they had committed fully to the spur of the moment plan. It made sense, really — all other authoritative figures had failed them, so why did they not just become their own boss? They would lead in their own way, make their own rules. Redshank had been easily convinced, and he was now all too eager to scout for a place they could call their own. And this place right here would do perfectly.

When they finally came to a stop, Redshank flopped down beside Screech whose form nearly disappeared into the tall grasses, breathing out a long, tired sigh. He met his one-eyed gaze with a nod in agreement to the silent decision, before he turned to survey the sight the Plateau granted them. Water fowl dotted the edges of the lake which was set ablaze by the setting sun, the smell of various prey nearly overwhelming his senses. The area had few trees, but it provided them with an unobstructed view of would-be trespassers. And, best of all, it was away. Away from traitors and bastards and assholes alike.

"I like it," he said after a pause, his tone uncharacteristically chipper.