Silver Moraine yūkan na

this icy land has had a stake shoved into it by one masa. it is where he decided he would roam and live for the time being while his hunt went on. he does not care for the thoughts of the gold-tinged man he spoke with days ago.
he would haunt this moraine until he had what he wanted.
haunt is what he did. a scoundrel adrift, loping long-legged over rock and ice-salt. tourmaline eyes tracing the distant horizon, that was untouched by the disturbances of other souls. that was true, for quite some time, until—
a yell. masa turns skeptical gaze inland, where he begins to track at once. no chance that it is cen, but he would go to investigate anyhow. honor demanded it. what he laid eyes upon had his tail flagging neutral, nostrils flaring with two great whiffs.
who? he demands.