Ghost Lion Crag Upward over the mountain

Sunlight dashed through lofted clouds and dappled itself in large patches along the stone and twisted trees. A hawk shrieked from overhead and took flight, casting its shadow onto the earth below and then vanishing.

The warrior had made good pace. Even the rain had not dampened his keen nose and the scent of the boy that carried him across an expanse of terrain.

Foxfur had not rested for long. The masked wolf did not wish to see his opportunity flee. The rangy male trotted between the stone crags with a shrewd eye and hurried on.