Duskfire Glacier the guilty hide, the guilty run

Time to post more with Skullface.

The mild late-summer sun filters down through the thick canopy of pines, illuminating the forest floor in a haphazard smattering of light. It was alive with activity. Small birds flit between the trees, darting this way and that, as they forage for food beneath the undergrowth and on the blackberry bushes that are ripe for picking. Occasionally the sound of a stellar jay can be heard barking through the woodland; their scratchy call a characteristic of the blue-colored avian.

Another patrol complete, Skull returns to his spacious hovel and flops down in the dirt just outside. He stretches his limbs out, toes splaying with the immensity of his efforts, before his body goes limp. He sighs, a small cloud of dust furling upward from the disturbance. The changes in his life were great, indeed, and he was consumed with thoughts of home. A tiny, selfish part of him wished they could all just move back to Arktayok Peak, but he also knew it was Tuwawi's time to test the waters of leadership. He would support her; his loyalty unshakable, but he could not help but wonder if they would be better off anyway.

As the sunlight shifts to scatters across his coal-dusted coat, he exhales again and closes his eyes.