Chimera Fields rannsókn

@Cicero Dvořák

sólhárr moved through the frostbitten fields of chimera, the cold air sharp against his fur as his golden eyes swept the horizon. his steps were deliberate, each paw pressing firmly into the snow as he traced the faint trails of prey and patrols. scouting these stretches had become second nature—a way to clear his mind while keeping his pack secure.

but today, the wind carried something unfamiliar. he paused, his broad frame still as he lifted his muzzle to the air. there it was: the faint, distinct scent of a stranger. a man, a loner, and certainly not of forneskja.

hm, he rumbled to himself, the sound low and thoughtful, as he adjusted his course to follow the scent. the tracks were faint, partially obscured by the snow’s restless shift, but sólhárr had no trouble keeping the trail.

he moved with the quiet confidence of a wolf born to these lands, each step bringing him closer to the source. his muscles coiled with readiness, his posture steady but not aggressive—yet. a loner this close to chimera’s borders could mean many things, and sólhárr would know soon enough.

as he crested a small rise, his gaze narrowed, scanning the field for movement. his tail lifted slightly, a silent warning to any who might be watching: the northman was here, and he did not take kindly to uninvited guests.