Heron Lake Plateau Staring at the great wide open

Because Caiaphas had been growing more and more lax with Svalinn's explorations of the bountiful plateau, he had managed to slip her watchtower gaze with a thrifty slink and a quick exit into the densest underbrush he could wriggle through. His loud escape could hardly be called stealthy -- leaving behind such a great shuddering of the foliage as he went -- and certainly his Mama was sharper than that, but because she'd let him slide so often he now considered himself blessed in the art of evasion. He felt unstoppable these days; like a young Houdini in motion: too fast, three slick, four smart. He could not be caught.

The golden hellspawn put his bid for freedom on hold when he came across a recent trail of Raven's. He remembered her in the way he remembered what prey was, so of course he gave way to hunt her down instead. Fortunately she had a bodyguard when he found her, so Svalinn was forced to temper his approach as he sussed out the vaguely familiar Colt while coming tentatively to steal Raven away. His manners weren't unlike the brave hyenas that linger close to steal from the kill of a lion.