Emberflame Ridge Burning incandescently

Located at the Hushed Willows area of the map (where it lines up with Emberflame Ridge), but it isn't in the drop-down. Open to anyone.

The sound of the wind drifting through the willows, that hushed hiss, was accompanied by the shrill call of a hawk; this brief interlude aside, the air was calm. There was a thin layer of ice on everything. It was as if someone had covered the trees with crystals. Up the heavy trunks, and down each tendril of green. Everything was grey now. Even the boy - not a boy now, not really - he was gray too. The gold of his face had faded a bit (or maybe he just forgot the vivacity of his own face, having not seen his reflection for some time now); the golds and tans of his pelt were overwhelmed by the cream, the white, silver and gray. A winter pelt which was remarkably similar to a ghost's. 

He heard the hawk and raised his head, watching the air as if witnessing a physical manifestation of the sound. It faded and did not come again, and still Tryphon lingered his attention on the horizon. The fog of his breath slid from his nose, wrapping like a scarf around his face, and dissipated. And when the moment ended, he felt the stirrings of wanderlust again. Perhaps it was time now to move on - but where would he go next? The willows were a calm retreat. Hardly anything visited the area, which was pleasing to him. He did not want to encounter more wolves (he told himself this constantly, more to convince himself to stay away than anything else) and yet knew the inevitability of such a thing.

With a sigh (another cloud sliding out of him in to the winter air) Tryphon decided to head towards the ridge. Maybe by the time he reached the cliffside he'd know if he'd want to climb the mountain or flee from it.