Whitefish River Darkhan

Camp is made in a river valley between mountain and hot spring. In the east, black crags rise as a barrier into the sky, its slopes below dotted with poplar. To the north, a plateau nestles under a granite ridge, stretching well out of sight into the dark.  The night before, Jamukha had stowed the headless body of a pronghorn here beneath the hull of an oak tree. Now he reclaims it, unearthing the tawny pelt from its rooted tomb and swinging its bloodied carcass onto broad shoulders to stalk through the meadow.

He doesn’t expect to see @Ātoztli.