Redhawk Caldera somewhere in the sore, bloated meat around you

@Teya @Maia @Eljay

He had been turned around one too many times on the trail of tusked beasts.

The trek home should have been easy, should have been noble. He could have brought back something worthy. Instead he sustained injury and laid in a haze for some days as it scabbed and prickled with some kind of infection at his throat.

He knew not the way back home from there.

Nor if he would make it back home.

So he slogged along, nearing borders that smelled of neither Winterglade nor Moonglow. A call did little good from him. A low, croaky sound that inspired pain.