Silverlight Terrace judea

Travel through the lowlands was far easier, of course, than the mountains above. The slope of the earth was far easier to traverse than erratic ridge lines or the occasional drop in to a pit of snow, as he had learned - though he would be at home there, too. Lazarus was built for mountain peaks; likened to a boulder in his youth, but coated in a winter pelt. He was a shard of tundra incarnate. This was no tundra - nor even a taiga - but far more temperate. The boy had been briefly lured to the seaside days ago, creeping along the sand bar as quietly as his buxom self could, but there was no meal there. In the haste to fill his belly, Lazarus had moved inland with the hope of finding something to rend and consume, but found this terrace lacking. He did not wish to stop roaming, although to stop and wait was pertinent to hunting anything. There were small things here - rabbits, mice, bird nests - all of which turned his stomach. He was a beast of particular tastes, and would leave this patch of the wilds unimpressed.