Permafrost Hollows got chrome in the bloodstream

@Sequoia; vaguey-vague.

having grown bored of the silver creek, tvarog ventured east; traversing the varying landscapes of the wilds; jack’o’lantern gaze surveying as he makes a mental map, filling in blanks with small points of interest to remember. unfettered and unsettled allows the slavicshadow to follow his whims and greater desires; a freedom he’d long since grown accustomed to in the badlands.

the morning was overcast; holding steadfast to the chill of winter as snows dust the floor of the permafrost hollow; like the brush of powdered sugar upon a pastry. he leaves a trail in his wake he doesn’t attempt to cover — believing there’s no need; he’s a loner and he doubts any of blood or clan cared enough to track him all the way here — poking ‘round the mouth of a cave, ultimately trying to decide whether it was unoccupied. at the very least, if offered shelter from the worst of the biting winds of night and with a wanderer outlaw with no place to go home he didn't quite have the liberty of being picky as far as temporary shelters went.