Blackfeather Woods She's Never Gonna Sing Them No More

Gracious had a lovely laugh. Its purity sent a smile flashing across his lips. For such a large woman, she appeared to have the nature of a butterfly, or perhaps a dove. Clumsy though she seemed, she spoke of the sky and its distractions, and he knew she must be something of a dreamer. Taikon looked up at the twilight for a moment, peering at the clouds, pink and orange above them. It was a pleasant watercolour sequence playing there, the paint bleeding into other shapes and changing rapidly as the minutes wore on.
Ah, the Spire. I see, he said, looking at the mountains. He had crossed over the mountain passageways once to see what was on the other side. He planned to take that same path again. They were so immense, that the fact there were wolves atop parts of the mountain did not surprise him. He wondered what the territories were like; he struggled to imagine much game too far up, near the tree line. Surely the plains were a better fit for most.
Oh, I didn't really have a plan, he admitted. Usually I roam as far as my feet might take me. I stop to hunt if there is game about, but I rarely stay in one place for long. Taikon looked toward the mountains, where he had been heading for a time. Actually, I was planning to head back toward the mountains again this evening. You're free to join me if you aren't busy, he offered, giving her a pleasant smile. His heart rate had thankfully slowed during their chat. He was beginning to feel a bit calmer at last.