Whitefish River Darkhan

and he would not see her; at least she hoped not yet.

atoztli left the cut throat of a vixen by the riverstream, invoking tezcatlipoca's favor to remain unseen as she trailed the road-warrior at what she believed a healthy distance.

at some point his tracks swung between a simmering spring and the alluvial plains of the valley. atoztli watches his figure disappear between a stand of oak.

when he emerges, one of the beasts qvasir felled was strung across his strong back.

seeing him yoked by heavy prey, atoztli broke cover. do you intend to take this to your lord? her gaze flickered across the corpse's abruptly ending neck. whatever had he done with the head?