Qeya River devourer

it was the soft-dark hours before dawn; the clouds were beginning to clear and the night fled slowly. the early birds were just starting to rise, but stigmata had been on the move all night -- with a goal to arrive in bearclaw valley the following morning. he deviated from this plan however, now on a roundabout route that would surely set back his itinerary by at least a full day, and it would only be for good reason that stigmata would ever abandon his plans or alter them in any way once they had been set in motion.

he found himself between two packs, one mountain-led and the other nestled somewhere in the broadwood, which cased him to remember skydance and her "lonely" plight of the north. she had either been a terrible tracker or just unlucky, not to have run into anyone in these lands before him. stigmata slunk along a proud river from the crags, keeping it to his left as he skirted claimed lands and hunted for shelter in which to spend his day.