Silvertip Mountain chickity check yo self

the idea of returning to the scene of his first murder thrilled merrick awake; he came alive in the glow of early morning, gently panting, the shudder of adrenaline juddering inside his veins.
@Astara was not near to where they had slept that night; the boy presumed she was upon an odd hunt of her own, and left the spine of a mouse in the grass bent by his body, a gesture to signify that he had gone off.
he quickly traveled back to the peak as the sun brightened, clawing its way hotly into the sky, and just as the heat began to grow uncomfortable, merrick came to the damned, beloved place, and began to climb the shaled side of it.
if there was someone here, he did not know it. the yearling stood upon the precipice and sighed into the warm air, gazing down at the place where he had thrown the child. no body there, but it did not perturb merrick, for what he had not eaten would not sour in the belly of another predator.
turning to the crystalled den, the young wolf entered its coolness, the scent of the pup’s fear still echoing through the oddly glowing cavern.