take apart the counting and the flock it has bred

A state of calm had settled over the Plateau in the past few days, enough so that Dante felt comfortable with a short trip beyond its borders. He was extremely satisfied with the decision he had made regarding Lasher and Blue Willow... the look on her face of late made him sure beyond a shadow of a doubt it had been correct (not that there was ever any question). They had a possible future set and were well on their way to preparing for the cold season.

Idly Dante wandered about the foot of a peak, somewhat less imposing than the Sunspire but still rather magnificent. The last time he had been here had been on his search for Junior, and it was then that he had first encountered Peregrine's brother, Atticus. A dark memory for more reason than one now, and he shied away from the recollection. An internal conversation for another time, one not so present and not when he had finally managed to gain some semblance of peace.

The chill had no effect through his heavy coat as of yet, though as it gained more teeth he was sure he would feel its effects moreso. Today was brisker than most but he jogged along in a rather comfortable state. The air had a clarity when it was cold that he did admit he found agreeable. Much as he hated winter, it had its upsides. If it weren't for the wind, Dante might have scented Mordecai sooner... as it was, he failed to detect that he was not, at present, alone here.