Silver Moraine multieyed raven

@Tvar : backdated one week

the silver moraine stretched before him, a barren sprawl of rocky mountain runoff, scattered stones glinting under the pale light. faust moved through it without purpose, without destination, the crunch of loose gravel beneath his paws the only sound that followed him.
he did not know what he sought here. peace? quiet? neither had ever been a companion to him. silence had never meant rest. it had meant waiting, it had meant watching—before the next battle, before the next hunt, before something else came to rip him from what little stillness he could find.
but here, among the forgotten stones and the slow trickle of water cutting through the moraine, there was nothing to anticipate. no looming threats, no eyes watching his every move. just the sky, the earth, the cold bite of the wind.
he exhaled, breath curling into the thin mountain air. perhaps that was enough. perhaps it would have to be.