Redhawk Caldera I'd rather make it mine.

From this distance there was no way for him to know where the woods began or ended, they were just a smudge. He decided that a certain smudge was home and pretended he could see the crows swarming around it; imagining them flying above the trees and cackling. The mountainside had taken some time for him to scale and he was shaking as he stood upon the plateau, his body warning him against further physical endeavors. Mou knew he'd have to eat or sleep for a bit before returning but he didn't want to, not here. Something about this barren place unnerved him.

His ear flicked when he heard a small rustling, the light sound of disheveled rocks coming loose. Mou turned his head and was met with the sight of a hefty individual prowling the ridge. Maybe prowling wasn't the right term for it — but they seemed to be following him for some reason. They were large and fit, a far cry different from what Mou was accustomed to, and he was instantly nervous. When the stranger speaks Mou doesn't know what to say, so he silently nods, but doesn't take his eye off of them.