Redtail Rise Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies

@Redd @Mountain Boulder @Masquerade

From the plains to the south he approached, carrying with him the haunch of a goat killed the day prior. The borders were strong; the pack here was strong. Sylvan laid his offering in the snow and called out, pale eyes surveying the foothills just beyond.

It was not dissimilar to the place he had come from. Overhead the clouds gathered, threatening rain or perhaps more snow. He missed the sun. But the sun would return in the spring; the same could not be said for all that he'd left behind.