The Sentinels Tempest-tossed and Seasick

Over the past weeks, Tahoe had wholeheartedly devoted his efforts to maintaining the border of Ironclan. There were no complaints, but he desired a change in pace. Going on a hunt would be an adequate use of his time. Tahoe slipped away from the bay, venturing deep into the charred forest. He discovered that the terrain was by no means teeming with life. Wildfire had stripped the lands of much vegetation. It was not completely barren though; he had found a hare, which after a good chase, escaped him. McBride made the decision to spare it instead of needlessly burning more energy. One failure, however, was not enough to set him back. Panting, he set off in the opposite direction, ultimately settling beside a collapsed, ashy log—the morning's faint showers drizzling everything with rainwater.