Bramblepoint o achilles,

overcast grey skies lead dracarys' way as he explores the neutral territories 'round the mesa. familiarizing himself with each of them in turn, learning their secrets: vantage points and hiding places. learning the herd grounds, the way the herds of deer and elk move within their selected territories.

this morning, he explores bramblepoint, a maze of fruit bearing bushes ... told if only because many remain shriveled and fermented and husks to their bushes still as he brush past.

far past their season of blooming.

the dry thorns snag at his fur as he passes, earning a small hiss of discontent, though twitch of his ear and rise of his head show only that he has a while to step before he is out of it. in the distance he can see grass, lackluster green and browning with the touch of winters' hoarfrost.

sōnar iksos daor sȳz, a low murmured observation beneath his breath.