Little Goat Mountain rocky mountain high

surya was heartened as the other yearling followed his lead readily enough, and the two of them ascended. he was just a little bit ahead of stag—his name was stag—when he glanced back to answer the question. whitebark stream, he replied, voice carrying slightly down the slope. and you?

the mountains, presumably; that had been established by smell. but before surya could ruminate further on his hunting companion's origins, a nearby bleat drew him to an abrupt halt.

he turned and gave stag a knowing look, then continued more slowly, more silently, until they reached the top of a small rise that gave way to a grass-lined plateau. here were several sheep, grazing contentedly, a couple of young ones at their mothers' sides. he crouched low, his tone hushed as he spoke.

you always look for a weak one, he explained, unsure if stag knew that or not. which one of them look the weakest to you? his own verdant gaze scanned the small herd. no individual stood out to him; that was where another pair of eyes came in handy.

so sorry for the wait on this ;-;