Chimera Fields black smoke

The woods were resplendent, rich with life and thickly greened. He could have spent many moons traversing the paths within and still yearned for more. It was not unlike the man's favored Branwood with oft-gilded elms. Here there was perpetual variety; at times so much variance that the roaming one was lost among the mess of it all. He did find his way - eventually, after many hours of being lost. His patience was tremendously thin and the hunt he had been on long ago spoiled (which made him all the more irate), but the way became clear.

Soon there came a silvering to the light. It spread between the moss-hewn branches of the woodlot, offering a glimpse at freedom. The man did not dally. In following that sombre glow he emerged abruptly and was thus faced with an entirely different vista: what looked to be an ornate carpet of many colors, strands, and shoots. As flustered as the norn had become during this stint, he could not help but slow to a steady prowl and take in his surroundings. Of course he scrutinizes them at first - as he might the hillocks south of home - but before long he is calm again and back at work.

There is no sign of his vangard here. There is a dark shape in the distance of which he takes note, but the narrow conformation and shade of pelt is not familiar. He does not so much choose to investigate what the other is doing so much as dawdle nearby, as there is nothing he can find of value besides their busy silhouette. As the roamer confidently broaches that gap he makes himself known with a low bellow. His voice is crisp but heavy with foreign brogue.

"Hail!" Called the man at a stand-still. The beast he had found was igam-ogam with their head bowed upon the green, which the roamer had not noticed until now. He thought immediately of gwas and for a spell, looked akin to a draft horse pulled in reverse by eager reins.