Arrow Lake as bellow

Eriol stared up at the looming peak in the distance, outlined at present by a range of striking purples. The sky was waking up and Eriol, having ran all night, would have preferred to be winding down. He wasn't finished, yet, however. He was keen on finding new life in this land - joining up, getting in with the crowd and establishing himself. Like a real man, an adult. He was young but he was pretty sure the first step to independence was servitude to a stronger, more dominate creature.

It sounded right to him. He pressed on.

A multitude of anxieties fled from him when he ran full out - his stride long, effortless and swift. If he stood too still, he'd feel all of it buzzing in his mind. Too much too think about, too much to do and not do. It was almost altogether too much at times. When he ran, though, it quieted to a whisper and sometimes went dead completely. It was like a drug and he craved the relief. That was why when his feet drew nearer a scent barrier, he did not begin to stop until he had almost blown right through it. When he did put on the breaks, he skid a full foot before coming to rest - inside the border, that he could smell, but that wasn't important.

He'd found a pack. He craned his neck to see up the rocky cliffs but there wasn't too much to see from where he stood at their base. It didn't matter. Life was here and so was he. Without giving himself time to think or worry, without considering what else may lay within the land or any other opportunities, Eriol threw his head back and called - a strong voice for one so small.