Swiftcurrent Creek spellcraft

Frederick wordlessly followed Lestan, looking down to the south as they had went. He wondered if the ring of tall stones was of any importance, but nonetheless focused on the trek from the river to the creek. When Lestan slowed, Frederick followed suit, looking out to the deer as he spoke.

A pretty name, he hummed, thinking back to the caribou that he and his people used to hunt. New leaders always came eventually. Then, again, they were back on the move. He watched as the terrain changed once they pushed past the lake. The trees stood like sentinels: the creeks protectors. He watched Lestan send a call through the air.

Standing tall, Frederick waited with perked ears and an alert posture. If he wished to be accepted, he wouldn't be seen lazing about. Wish me luck, he whispered, before falling quiet once more.