Mount Everfall wilted scenes for us who couldn't wait

“Alltaf.”

Whether hungry for food, hungry for pleasure, he was always hungry and never sated. That was the way the road went in their travels; they would always hunger for something. Whether or not that stayed within their reach was not entirely up to them, for the world was a vast place of variety both good and bad. Whatever it had planned for them he had not yet pieced together, but perhaps it mattered not. They would go where the road went until their hringja was answered and all would be illuminated.

He gestured for his companion to come alongside him, wondering what he had in mind to hunt. The forest would provide as it always did and with any luck, they would not go hungry. Solpallur drew in the heady scent of the damp wood, testing and almost tasting their options. Elk, grouse, even mule deer lingered through the foothills of the mountain. Perhaps if they found water, they would find duck and pretend it was a delicacy from their wildest dreams.

He waited for Stjornuati to make a decision.