Neverwinter Forest speja heiminn

sólhárr’s maw curved upward, a rare smile breaking the stoic lines of his face. pangur’s eagerness was contagious, and her energy rippled through the frostbitten air between them. his single golden eye gleamed with shared enthusiasm, a flicker of something akin to pride igniting in his chest.

then we find something worthy, he rumbled, his voice carrying the weight of his approval.

his gaze scanned the horizon, the snow-covered expanse stretching before them. there were always signs for those who knew where to look—the faint trails etched in the snow, the scattered branches snapped by heavy bodies. he turned his muzzle to catch the wind, the air carrying hints of life hidden beneath the serene facade of winter.

there—a scent. faint but distinct. a musk unlike elk or deer, something heavier, something bold. a herd of muskoxen.

muskox, he declared, his tone low but charged. the herd moves closer to the cliffs. one separated... if we are cunning, we take it.

his weight shifted as he moved down the hill, his massive frame a shadow against the pale light of day. he glanced back at pangur, his grin lingering.

this will not be easy. but the gods smile on the bold, yes?