Qeya River Life is wonder-fall

The strenuous trips up north had become a regular occurrence for Memphis now that Frostfire Ridge had found itself halfway through fall. The mountains were blooming with elegant foliage, squirrels poking their little noses out from the hollows of trees, and the elk herd heading to the meadow for grazing. However, after having spent a solid week of hunting the fresh game, his vagabond soul had told him that it was time to travel south again, to see what he could find in the next territory. Memphis didn't have much of a purpose in life, other than to survive, and he could only hope that someday he would be able to join an honorable cause. Until then, he would wander, hunting and sometimes fishing for his small meals, experimenting with different herbs to cure his ailments, and occasionally stumbling across a fellow traveler or two, who were lost and asking him for directions.

The grey wolf continued to trudge onward, making his way to the south, under the shade of the vast boughs of massive coniferous trees. The sudden gust of wind swept through the lithe branches as the jumbled scents of pine, river and prey reached Memphis's senses, his nose informing him that the water source was just nearby. His wispy tail swung lightly, back and forth in a rhythmic pattern, his calm gaze falling upon the surrounding river. Once he arrived at the riverbank, he lowered his skull and parted his maw, taking a few sips of cold water to appease his unbearable thirst. The atmosphere here seemed so peaceful and soothing, brighter even, and while Memphis enjoyed a good scenic display, he could also appreciate the beautiful weather. He lapsed into a brief silence, his cinnamon eyes watching as the sunset gradually dipped below the horizon and cast its fiery rays across the glistening river.