Fairspell Meadow the godspell

He was a thing not made for crossing mountains.

He came out the other side peeved, disheveled, and with a number of bloody cuts and bruises from trying to climb the accursed range all over again.

It was the mid of the morning when he finally said enough and laid down where his legs gave out. He could see the Mesa, Akashingo so close, but he was to rest dammit. The saluki sprawled on the grasses, wheezing and panting and all in all, acting as if he was to die within the next several minutes.

It was only when he caught his breath that he rolled to his stomach from his dramatic back sprawl, taking to cleaning the odd number of cuts to his legs and shoulders.