Ouroboros Spine things become possible if we want them bad enough

This is it. No doubt about it, this is the Ouroboros Spine his grandmother once governed. Scaling the south face leads him to the pinnacle enclosing the valley. The spectacle that greets him is nothing to write home about. There are some trees dotting the land, upright despite the entropy that passed years ago. Not all that impressive though some are quite big. Below that sprawls toppled trees and mud. It looks like a quagmire from up here.

Seems like that storm has wrought more havoc than he originally thought. The only notable quality of this place is the heaps encompassing the vale. Why do that, though, when there is no life cradled within? Aside from birds and fish. The soil here is far too muddy.

Through a jaded lens, Natjuk can repair the spine with his mind. Yes...He can see a napâttulik of many conifers, ancient and proud. A lake, big and crystalline, houses an islet at its center. It travels underground, feeding back into itself. And who can forget the heap of bones just that had mysteriously accumulated there? To an outsider, the sight alone would be enough to send a shiver up one's spine, but for the wolves under his grandmother's rule, it was a welcome treat.

He opens his eyes.

Overcome with an emotion he cannot pinpoint, Natjuk throws his head back and croons a mournful song.