Blacktail Deer Plateau Golden lies

Wa-hey!

The sun was high and Valtýr felt lethargic. He mozied around without a thread of haste on the search for a nice, shady resting spot. Already, the juvenile had outgrown his root burrow. Without a den the firefoot was often reduced to dozing beneath clump of bramble. He yawned, however the scent of an outsider snapped him to attention. The lamb didn't make for much of a warden but he approached inquisitively.

The sound of Saena's aggressive snarl pulled him into a canter, curiosity evolving into urgent concern. He was near the border's now... was Dante or Taltos nearby? He turned a corner near the cave, just enough to see Saena's bristled tail disappear into its mouth. He followed, back arched like an irritated cat.