Lion Head Mesa I keep catching little words but the meaning's thin

48°, currently it is snowing soot and set during the late afternoon. Located in mainland, sub-land here | tagging: @Maegi

As the seasons marched on, the weather began to cool. Midday was still warm enough, but as the sun lowered over the horizon, the temperature dropped just enough to feel the chill that slowly began its creep over the lands. For the winter born Birserkir, Rosencrantz looked forward to the winter, to the cold and snow, and while he emerged from the hole he slept in last night, for a moment he thought that winter had come early while watching what he believed to be snowfall from the mouth of his hide.

It was when it touched him that he knew. The grey ash stained his porcelain pelt, layered onto the ground in a soft blanket. He had never seen such an event before. He didn't know what to think of it - and so, the knight decided to go on an adventure.

Days had passed since he had marched away from Rusalka's borders (for he had not seen or known of their previous ones, Blacktail Deer Plateau was the only one he knew of) and traveled South. Nothing had changed other than the scenery, ash seemed to fall no matter where he went. Its reach was vast and impressive. 

Even as he stopped at the foot of the mountain, the plains didn't carry the usual large prey that one would expect to find - there was no scent or sign of their presence that wasn't weeks old. He blamed the shaking of the earth for that. Even the obvious watering holes were dry... drained from below as the earth called back its liquid in thirsty greed.

With all this, he wasn't certain of what to think of it. What to do.