Qeya River rhodonite

On a dark autumn evening, Darrow came home.

The sun had long set over distant hills ans its light which danced upon the glacier had long become ice again. The air tasted cold, colder than anything the boy had ever felt, and breath billowed from his mouth. Moonlight washed the land in deep shadows. Eyes like frozen stars surveyed the river from behind a ruddy mask.

Adrenaline burned his paws like fire as memories piled back into place. Though veiled in shadows and skeletal from the shifting season, Darrow's gaze lit upon the land with growing intensity. This had to be it, this had to be home! He strummed the ground, drawing closer -

dad's scent, interwoven here -

and it was enough.

He ran past the scent line through the riverland in an eager bid to find him.

He is trespassing; attack on sight is good with me, just nothing to kill him please! <3