Meadowlark Prairie surface

He continued his travelling, slowly but surely making his way towards Moonspear. He thought he could catch glimpses of it beyond the thickets and fields he wandered through. However, while the mountains were visible, he wasn't sure which one was his home. He thought of howling for his pack mates, anxious to make sure they were all still there, all in one piece. From this distance, he doubt they would be able to hear. Unless of course, a member was out scouting or hunting.

For that reason Atreyu kept on high alert, sniffing at every nook and cranny he came across for any trace of Moonspear scent. He hadn't been well acquainted with the other wolves before his disappearing act, though, and would only really recognise those of Stavanger Bay.

The blanket of snow made things even more complicated. The meadow he found himself in now seemed...greener than the other one where he had met that strange, silent female. The grass could still be felt underfoot and blades stuck up from the layer of white atop it. Atreyu came to a halt, using his nose to push back some of the snow to reveal the mud underneath — along with the carcass of a long dead meadowlark. He sniffed at it once before withdrawing and deciding he wasn't hungry enough to eat that...yet.