Heron Lake Plateau a treason bestowed to the crowd

Days later brought him to the plateau—it was a strange place to him.

Not that he had never laid eyes on a plateau, or set foot across one, but rather the depression that held the lake was a strange phenomenon to him. He had anticipated finding more of the same in the hinterland that he had found in the mountains; spiraling waterfalls and varying heights that implied some hardy foothill. Instead there was this, but it was not disappointing.

He hunted solo for now, though @Stjornuati was never too far off. Passing beneath the canopy of a copse lining the lakeshore, he had yet to find a trail that interested him. They had been unburdened by other company in their travels so far—a boon, he decided—and it gave them the freedom to explore what seemed to be relatively bountiful lands. They had not hungered, had not needed to fight or fend some parcel of area to rest for a day or two if they had needed to.

But he did not grow complacent. Not yet.

Solpallur paused along the water’s edge to drink then, eyes watching his surroundings.