Sheepeater Cliff foglet

though dawn had come and gone, a heavy pillowtop of mist lingered over the sunpires in an oppressive halo, and what little greylight there was failed to overcome the sky-fallen miasma. stigmata descended the mountains with great care - intent on not being the fool who slipped and died because of a cold fog - but it was a slow and arduous process that took nearly all morning to complete.

when he had at last absconded beneath the realm of low visibility, he found himself standing just north of a few squat, impassable cliffs. he could see the pale coats of mountain sheep dotting the sheer rocks here and there, but they were the only creatures skilled and foolish enough to travel this area with any competency. the warhound shifted his gaze skyward as he heard a screeeee overhead; turning lusterless eyes to watch a massive golden eagle circling the cliffs ominously.

repost. @Kazimir, hopefully this spot is ok