Hoshor Plains Outlander

The fields were a wide expanse of endless white. Sometimes there’s be long, dead brush poking up from the deep drifts of snow, but otherwise, it was like a freshly laundered sheet tucked tight. Njord could see prey tracks in the snow: bird, hare, deer… he figured these were popular grazing grounds for game big and small.

He walked with purpose (He was a man on a mission, after all) until he managed to cross paths with a youthful looking fellow. They approached one another. Hey, cool tail, the stranger complimented. “This ol’ thing? Ya flatter me, lad,” Njord chuffed in a friendly tone. He curled his tail like a plume to show it off. He was quite proud of the striking red in his coat… It was a hand-me-down from his great ancestors of Duskfire Glacier.

The vagrant had a similar color on the ruff of his neck, but for the most part they were cast in a sooty black. Candy pink eyes regarded Njord with curiosity.  He appeared young… maybe this was his first winter? “Are ya a scout, too?” Njord asked, “or jus’ passin’ though?” They were too far apart to smell each other, but Njord’s open posture would permit his company to take scent.