Dragoncrest Cliffs Coffee Shop Playlist

Njord followed Kaertok as they moved at a good clip across Dragoncrest, away from the cliffs. Though strong, the Tartok man moved with exceptional agility and Njord’s sealegs struggled to keep up over the indigenous terrain. He took note of the wind direction and the paths his superior took. Watching. Learning. Imitating. Using his eyes, ears, and nose.

Kaertok avoided the Tangle, and it made Njord understand that big game would not be catchable among such dense and thicketed wilderness. After a while he slowed, nose pointing towards a fresh trail in the snow. Njord’s sides heaved as his hot breath turned to mist in the air, a greenhorn in Teekon’s eyes. He slurped up his drawling tongue to sniff the prints. The smell was so strong that it almost made his mouth water in hunger and he then understood the meaning of “fresh tracks.”

Careful not to disturb the trail, Njord sniffed around. His nose was like a metal detector: hot, warm, cold, hot hot hot! He secured the direction they would have headed and looked that way, ears orbiting to listen for any sound. “How did you know they’d come this way?” he whispered, not quite sure the traveling speed of deer. Would they be close? “Do we follow?” he asked the experienced man.