Hideaway Strath old gods still prowl among the thickets

forward-dated 2 days from now. let's pretend that tusk didn't just teleport down here? semi-realism

the sun had been swallowed by a thick blanket of storm clouds. they had moved in early in the morning and lingered above the peaks of the mountains without venturing any further. it seemed as though it was the intention of the divine billowing things to remain where they were for all of eternity. at least, that was how it appeared to the beasts on the earthen floor. the promise of snow was swept through on the breeze. with it was the touch of winter and the fearful chill that seemed to cling to the bones of all things corporeal. tusk braced himself against the icy breath of it until he had prowled across the morass and into the thick brush of the hideaway. the trees on either side of him acted as a shield against frigidity that existed outside.

passing through the wooded portion of the territory, the wildcat made wolf seemed to find a sense of peace there. the wolf on the mountain had not been wrong when he had said that the rest of it did not hold a candle. while the other had been talking of the creatures who had found dwellings nearby, tusk seemed to think that of the landscape as well. though there were great mountains that jutted to the skies, he did not believe them to hold the same savagery as the heights did. still, he was offered some reprieve from the cold as he pushed further. his lean frame sauntered onward, stopping only to cast his lightless yellow gaze to the heavens above.