Silver Moraine hole in the earth

He didn’t dare come any closer to the rise, though the memory of his silent encounter with the two white wolves—the she-wolf, in particular—compelled him to linger. He kept the mount always in view as he ventured to the nearby plains. Cambria scratched out a place to sleep amidst some tall grass, rested a while, then headed eastward when hunger drove him to hunt.

The terrain grew progressively more rugged underfoot, slowing his pace from a hasty lope to a leisurely trot. He had never seen anything like the moraine and was keen to explore it, though Cambria knew he needed to satisfy another appetite first before he fed the one after knowledge. He dropped his nose to comb the uneven rockery for any signs of prey.

He quickly learned one thing about this sort of landscape: it did not make for very good hunting grounds. The lanky yearling spun on a heel, eyeing the plains back west and then giving the distant woods to the southeast an introspective glance. Cambria decided to head that way, carefully picking his way over the hostile topography.

Suddenly, he paused. Cambria’s nostrils flared as he whipped his head to his right, eyes scouring the horizon before fixing on a swarthy figure in the middle distance. His posture stiffened even as he gazed curiously at what appeared to be yet another yearling. Even more curious was the deliberate, almost frenetic nature of the stranger’s pacing across the scabrous earth.