King Elk Forest Like a Gilded Idol

The North was uncharted territory for his people. It was that, perhaps, that led him so far from his home. From the warm deserts and savannahs and swamps to the still cold forests of the Northwest coasts. Yao suppressed a shudder as the wind blew through his fur, though he knew no one else was there to see it. He certainly had the fur to protect him from the colder months — it did grow cold where he was from — but he was unused to it this late in the year. The further north he went, the colder it got. Had others of his clan, his tribe actually experienced this? He had been told, certainly, but who else could claim to have seen the North? He latched onto that thought. He would be the first of his tribe, of his clan to see and feel the north. 

His ears pricked at the soft murmur of words somewhere off in the distance. Someone there? He spoke in the common tongue hesitantly, his accent tinging his words as he called out to the voice. He cursed himself. Why give away your position so soon and in such foreign territory? Certain to rectify his mistake, he strode to where he thought the voice came from, ready to face the creature — threat or otherwise — head on.