Sun Mote Copse the shrike to your glorious thorn

Maybe @Kiwi or @Wildfire --- open!!

Tulimaq had filled his belly with something-or-other and now, thinking of his mountain and of all the nooks and crannies he still had to explore, he was heading back. He passed along a ridge of leaning pines with their lower branches missing, like something had gusted through and cleaved away the weaknesses as the spires grew, and then over some erratic slopes until another segment of forest opened up around him — this one dense, much more dense than the rest of the hinterlands from his estimation. Had he chosen a different route then maybe his path would've been quick, but instead he was faced with various walls of woodland and dense shrubbery, leading him to grow a little frustrated despite the natural beauty of the area. He got turned around a few times; a fact he would not happily admit to. Then, as he was just starting to gather his bearings, Tulimaq came to a gap in the trees where the thin winter light glimmered on fresh snow, some of which floated in the air like motes of dust, glittering faintly; his frustrated melted away in that instant.