Neverwinter Forest Lover of the light.

Khotan had spent much of his time since arriving in the Wilds amongst the trees of Neverwinter, guarding the lands from potential intruders; a silent, white sentinel. His white-and-silver coat made the winter his season, for it camouflaged him from prey and wolves alike. In the snow and freezing cold, the white beast could move like a ghost. Thus far, the territory had been as quiet as the frozen earth. Chakra remained at the heart of the forest, though he knew she patrolled the borders occasionally to intercept those that would seek haven between the dark pines. Their number was small, but they were enough to survive the cold, for Khotan had survived the fierce tundra of the North with much less aid. Even better, the deer seemed to be confounded by the deep snow levels—it was not uncommon for one to get stuck, and make themselves an easy meal for their predators.

But it seemed that with the deepening chill, more and more wolves entered the Wilds to seek out the stability of a pack. Neverwinter's borders grew thicker with the scent of claim, and Khotan could feel a fierce pride burn in his chest. He did not rule here, but he was part of the great kingdom. It was good to see the pack strengthen. The wolves of Neverwinter Forest would reign here for many years to come; he could feel it in his bones, more and more each day that passed.

Now that their numbers had swelled, it was less pertinent to guard the edges of the territories; he could sneak away for a time, and foster the fire that would bond them all together. Khotan navigated through the trees, following the winding pathways of scent left behind by his brethren. It was not long before he came upon a dark beast, half hidden in the dark shadows cast by the tall pines. That he could scarcely make out the wolf's scent over the pines told Khotan that this other creature was pack, and so his posture was more welcoming than it would have been towards a trespasser as he approached.