Porcupine Ridge granite eye

Sap and blood—that was the taste in his mouth as he came to. A sharp squirm given in the jaws that held him—but he was dropped to the ground and stumbled upward—a glare set firmly upon an ashen countenance before he spit out blood and a puppy tooth.

Piercing yellow eyes were set upon him—the warmth of his mother’s chartreuse gaze missing. He was nudged forward, almost toppling on disoriented limbs, and he flashed his teeth to the woman—her words offered to the man, but Alasdair did not grasp what she meant in that moment.

Another before them—darkness encased. A frown cast down to him from this unknown man—giving his name, and earning another flash of teeth. His ears slid back to his skull, a moody glare cast to either—but while the fog began to clear from his brain, it was very obvious this was not the glen his mother had taken them to.

This wasn’t a place he recognized.