Lone Star Mountain see in the dark

At night, they hunted, and their business was their own. He had conferred with @Stjornuati about what he had learned of the coast and though there had been much more to discuss, the duo had delved into a pastime of their own when the last bit of light had faded along the mountains. There were always little treasures and trinkets to find along the stones and though they had number enough to hunt properly, discretion had long been their calling card.

They scavenged and searched, made their mental maps of the various ridges and rocky trails that crisscrossed the division between one sloping valley and the next. They sussed out whatever pieces and parts they could find that might tie them to their hringja, their purpose. They loitered in the safety of the raven’s and their stony roost and tonight, they scavenged for both canine and avian alike.

Along a ruddy path, he heard voices, and paused to listen.

His head turned to find Stjornuati and he leveled a question with a look—should we?

There were packs here, at least one of which he was certain but he too had scented another with the chilly air. It could have been them wandering along the slopes doing just the same, or a retinue of hungry draugr looking to test their mettle. He hadn’t the slightest clue they had come across two children out for an adventure, and they would perhaps not know that they were close to two scavengers who looked more hellhound than gentle guardian.