Porcupine Ridge early sunsets over monroeville

Aquilae, he greeted, turning slightly to give her a welcome glance. Nodding toward his side in invitation, he returned his eyes to the grasslands. Each dark hair was now gleaming on the ends, as if dipped in gold, and his gaze the richness of a summer sun.

Hex let another couple of moments of silence elapse before speaking again.

I always wanted to be in the mountains, he mused. Seemed safe, up high. Away from everyone.

Wolves came and went, but no one had stuck around for long. Only the most steadfast would remain by his side, and that was all right with him.

Did you always live in the canyon? he asked.