Blackfoot Forest all gods dispense suffering without reason

backdated to about a month or so || for @Aure

the early morning sun spreads a golden light over the wilds as wintersbane takes his leave of blackfeather woods' borders and heads northeast. he doesn't bother to attempt to track down their escaped captive — no doubt she is long gone and he clings to the hope that she will not bring war upon their doorstep. blackfeather woods' numbers have lessened and the tundrian suspects that winter will yet test their resilience. he is prepared for it — whatever the frosts and chill brings with it — but he is built for the harsh bite of winter, for he is all stone and ice himself. is the woods prepared? he can only hope so — contributing anything and everything he can.

he frequently takes trips outside of their borders — to recruit, to do reconnoissance on packs in their general vicinity. none of them are close per say but when the herds migrate and thin out he wonders if they will pose a problem all the same. scarce food would mean they'd have to venture further than their initial hunting grounds and as wintersbane is known to be a territorial beast this knowledge does not particularly bode well. only time would tell, he supposes. still, he will gather what he can: herd movements, information on their far-away neighbors, recruits if he can ( though his track record for them isn't the greatest ).

he's only ever seen blackfoot forest by the dark of night — when the eerie wails of the foxes echo through the trees. during the day, it as if it is a different forest entirely. it is light dappled and enchanting if wintersbane looked at territories in such a manner ( he does not ). still, the difference is notable and it's enough to give him a moment of pause to re-examine and reassess his surroundings.