Redsand Canyon it's awfully groovy seeing all the treasure and the booty

the season was coming to a close; val had enjoyed his wayfaring ways, but even he -- as young and as inexperienced as he was -- saw the way the fat on his body had melted away to trim muscle. how his energy had become something to be saved and conserved rather than spent -- and around him, the rest of the world was transitioning much the same.

he had a vague notion of returning home to his parents -- he missed both terribly -- but being a terrible navigator, he had no earthly idea how close or far the coast was. but he knew with winter creeping up on his heels, that now was no time for pilgrimages.

finding himself on the periphery of packlands, val coursed the border curiously. it was an area that seemed well patrolled, boasting several scents unrecognizable to him. around him were the criss-crossed scent of prey, and somewhere inland, the fresh and enticing smell of riverwater.

slouched carefully by the border, the young male threw back his head in a howl that rose up along the shuddering orange leaves of fall, and gradually dissipated into the chill autumn air along wispy white clouds.