Kintla Flatlands born unto trouble

o hi!

This was the farthest from the Spine that Lotan had traveled yet. On the first day, he had lingered in the Heartwood, even going so far as to find a nest in which to sleep for the night. Surprisingly, he woke refreshed, and instead of pointing his paws back towards the mountain range that he called home, he continued to the north.

He forged across a river just on the opposite side of the forested area, then paused long enough to shake the water from his pelt. He was thankful in that moment for the warmer temperatures; the stream hadn't been nearly as cold as it would have been even a few weeks ago, and it wouldn't take much time for the sun to dry his fur.

An expansive plain lay ahead of him -- wide and flat and beckoning him to run. So, with little hesitation, the Ostrega stretched his legs and galloped across the gentle terrain. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a black smudge in his peripheral vision -- the she-wolf playing with her food -- and it was only the hunk of meat tossed into the air that nabbed his attention enough to make him slow his pace. He wouldn't attempt to take the meal from her, but he had to wonder why she was throwing it around; he made a questioning noise as he ground to a halt a good ten yards from her.