Silvertip Mountain Outside the night wind keens and wails

I'd like maybe someone who'd be interested in hearing a tale from good old Tagg here. ^^

That day, the salt had filled the mountain air. It was carried from the north by a strong wind. Clouds rolled overhead, threatening those below with showers.

The Taggerung carried an otter in his jaws. He had captured the slippery creature in an attempt to flee into the river. The slick fiend hadn’t a chance once Tagg had found its throat with his fang. In fact, the bard was quite pleased with his hunt.

Storing the otter where it could be accessed by any of the pack, the Taggerung peered upward and traced the ridges of the mountain. Kojall would have liked the place.