Luneshale Pass that's the way I remember her best

many come to verapaz.

but this? 

soto wipes the grime from his eyes and reassesses. no, his vision held true: there was a cat, a dark inkblot of a wolf, and just on the fringes, the swiveling ears of an attentive coyote.

he contemplates howling for safiya, but that would alert company he's aware of their presence. instead, he lopes out to the open where they are, gaze mistrustful but expression one of guarded interest.