Greatwater Lake When I stood right here

The vulture which had watched over him had split in to three ravens, each going a separate direction. When he looked for them he saw them like motes of smoke on the fringes of his vision, never quite solid. When he'd forsaken the plains for the cover of trees, they became harder to find - but always, one would appear and it would lead him further.

Choose wisely, the shadow had told him.

Heksvarrim had been walking for what felt like an eternity. His paw-pads were cracked and bleeding. He'd caught himself on thorns, brambles, low branches - but he'd not stopped, and acted as if he did not feel the sting. When he finally stopped it was because the world became too fluid for him to continue; literally - there was a lake shimmering ahead of him.

No; not the lake itself — a figure, like the shadow. This one was made of sunlight. It seared in to his vision a silhouette of shining white rimmed in gold, and he could not pull his gaze away.