Blacktail Deer Plateau & they will hang us in the louvre

Away from the seaside, the pale knight ventured until he could no longer hear the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore. He had passed through the forest and up along the rocky slope that met the top of the plateau. It was there that the broad hound stood to peer at what rested below him. In the years that he had spent traveling, he had never truly seen a land as diverse as that one. When the snow fell, Guildenstern imagined that it shrouded the entire stretch of wilderness in a hush of white. Though he had not planned on remaining there for very long, the knight thought it might have been curious enough to hold his attention for the few months that would draw them into fall and then winter.
 
A familiar scent passed him by, carried in the soft touch of the breeze. That same wind tousled the jagged fur along his neck and shoulders, ruffling the white mane around his neck. Were his cloak any thicker, he would have resembled a lion closer than he did a northern wolf. Even in the hottest of summer months, it did not seem as though his pale fur would thin. Challenging as it was, he was not harried by such things. The heat would fade away when night fell, and he would traipse through the wilder things like a moon hunter.
 
Moving toward the faint aroma of the mad woman, Guildenstern kept his ears drawn forward and his starlight eyes searching for the haggard figure of her. She had not agreed to hire him in order to search for her child. It mattered little to him, but he was curious to know if she had found the whelp. It was far more likely that the wilds had stolen him away and replaced his presence with feelings of regret and loss.
 
When his gaze latched onto her thin frame, he stopped in his place and waited. The elf of a woman did not seem as though she had lost what was left of her mind. There was still a sadness that clung to her – one he could not relate with – and he imagined this was the manifestation of her ruin. For a mother to lose a child… well, some would have said that was unforgiveable. Guildenstern approached her confidently. His crown was drawn high and his limbs moved almost effortlessly across the plateau to where her starlight frame stood. When he had closed much of the distance that spread between them, he huffed softly.
 
“Did you find your kin?”