Sun Mote Copse You can stand me up at the gates of hell

By the time he found himself on the far side of the mountains, Peregrine's paws were sore and even bleeding slightly. He strode into a bare, naked woodland to pause and collect himself, blinking at his unfamiliar surroundings even as he gingerly cleaned his aching feet. He didn't know the name of this place, else he might have noted it was now rendered irrelevant by the sheer lack of plant life. Honestly, it looked just as stripped as the rest of the Teekon Wilds. A feeling of hopelessness curdled in his stomach but he pushed back onto all fours, reminding himself that he had barely seen the tip of the iceberg here.

Minding his travel-weary limbs, the thinning wolf trotted along a sun-baked game trail, heading in the only direction that made any kind of sense: west.