Ghost Lion Crag the night so black that the darkness hums

Up along the ridges and high reaches, the view was remarkable. Had it been for any other reason than following the trail left by @Arcturus, Dirge may have taken in those sights. Perhaps once upon a time, they would have meant something to him—mountainsides had always been a means of pinpointing the next place to venture, a means of pathfinding. Instead his focus was on the damp path forward along a narrow walkway towards the next plateau-of-sorts.

It was there that had found mute traces that his brother-in-law had been there, along with @Dragomir. Promising, if anything, but shaky at best. The weather had been inclement off and on, twisting between snow squalls and snow melt, and even now he was wary that it would hold. The sun could peak through the clouds all it wanted to, warm all it could try, but there was a decisive chill to the air that even he could not shake here.

He traced his snout along deformed footprints, wondering many things with no particular direction to settle on in his thoughts. Torn, for ultimately he sought Arcturus and wanting answers for himself, but knowing that finding Dragomir was equally important if only to ensure that the boy was safe; there was much uncertainty in what had transpired along the crag's path, more questions arose than he had reasonable answers for, and Dirge was unwilling to entertain the possibilities.

A fresh marker arose and he paused almost cat-like in pose, curling around to better investigate it once more.

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