Larksong Grotto Introducing Angler

Angler steps into the cold bite of the open air, bush leaves push past to expose a clearing with an open cave at its center. At such a time of night he would usually take the shelter within its cover, but he is restless, full of longing. This land has an air that puts home on his mind. The grass is that same kind of wiry and arid net on the ground, the prologue to deep snow around the corner.

He walks across with his figure low, slinking along the shadows of looming rocks, his breath is held tight and his ears are perked for movement, but they can barely here over his heart. He sits with his rump hovering over the ground, he wants to run and chase, or perhaps he needs to run and hide, but he will wait until the time comes to take action, for now his eyes are on the horizon, ignoring sleep.