Redsand Canyon the ritual pyre's sending smoke to the sky

forward dating to 7/17, making a tiny assumption about what renard would know :) open to any saints. finding some territories
early afternoon, 77F, clear

if renard had ever thought trees that wept blood was a foreign concept, they were certainly learning something about unfamiliarity now. though donovan had led them around some of the land that he – that renard – was now calling home, they hadn’t expected this much endless sand. blue skies, towering red canyon walls, and best of all, a wide array of plants that hurt you when you touched them.

so it was still, it seemed, perfectly fitting.

for someone who had grown up around snow and pine trees only, it felt like stepping into a whole new world. they hadn’t needed to cross the sea after all – just to walk for several months.

whether there were people to meet and speak to could be an event for later. if renard was expected to defend borders, it was essential that they knew the lands they were defending. the best places to set an ambush, and the best places to have an ambush set on you.

there weren’t many trees here, but there was plenty of scrub and cliffside, so they would practice walking along the ledges instead, keeping an eye to the sheer canyon walls. stalking quietly was an art they were already skilled in, though the sand was hot and shifted in an unfamiliar way under their paws, hissing against itself.

they walked, and walked, focused half on their movements and half on the sun-scorched earth around them, moving with more surety with each step. they could pick it up – wasn’t that the purpose of leaving home to begin with? new experiences. an exciting new world.

they walked until the sand had vanished, and in place, there was nothing but cracked, dry earth. wildflowers in all shades of yellow and purple and white clung to the fissures; instead of sand shifting under their feet, the dirt crumbled away like crusted ice over snow. the flat plain extended farther than they would have expected, devoid of rocks or shrub; the wind howled over them, and the sun beat down.

there would be no hiding here.