Little Goat Mountain rocky mountain high

thank you for starting! <3

While Mahler had never explicitly said the boy was soft, Stag was beginning to feel ashamed by the lack of mileage under his belt. His other comrades, like Praimfaya, had gone out, made a pack even -- and here Stag was, Little Johnny-Stay-At-Home.

He set out in early morning, assuming that would give him enough time to find his way home. He left his tracks obvious; a broken sapling every hundred feet or so, lots of swiping with his paws to keep his scent evident -- he did not want to get lost again.

Hearing small noises he thought might be bleating, Stag warily approached with his ears perked and neck craned. He was sniffing the air curiously when he caught wind of a wolf and spooked; somewhere nearby by his guess. Squinting up the sunny slope Stag caught a loping figure against the mountain, no doubt trailing the goats.