Redsand Canyon the world is going to break you

Donovan pads down the infamous wall of the canyon, head level with his back he stalks forth like the many mountains that creep about these arid lands. Eyes to rival the sun beating down from above they’re heavy and neutral only perking up when there is something of interest in the corner of his eye. Then a black tongue that almost dances along the line of purple hangs comfortably from his maw, surrounded by dangerous, elongated fangs.

He pants wildly to keep his body temperature down as he saunters along the edges of the canyon. His head goes high for only a moment, stopping his seemingly endless stride he sniffs about the air; a certain metallic smell reaches his nose and he knows instantly its blood. Though who’s, he does not know.

He urges himself forward, leaning into a trot he strides along the path to the root of the smell. Just a few meters before him lies a white lump. He isn’t sure what it is at first, so of course he continues to investigate. Now standing over it, he nudges it with a large, dusty paw. Turning it over to see more of its body he dares to inhale a soft breath of astonishment — it’s fucking Awenfen. The beautiful, wispy wolfdog he met long ago at that lake. She is stained in red and his brows furrow at the thought of someone doing this to her. Sure he loves to mutilate things, but he thinks of specifically why. Perhaps for fun.

Still he looks down upon her and continues nudging her, leaning down to listen to her breathing to make sure she’s even alive. Then nudges her again. Hopefully she wakes up, if she doesn’t he’ll easily drape her over his shoulders and bring the smaller back to the healers of the pack. For now he waits for a reaction — if there is one that is.