Falls of the Hinterlands friends forever

backdated a few weeks, set before the sun more copse thread.

It had been a while since Charon had explored the western ranges of the mountains. He had run into others a few times in the western areas but had also often taken trips that came up empty-handed; he knew wolves lived here, but not substantially many to care much. They often left his lands alone and that was fine. The packs to the east and north seemed to be of bigger threats than whatever lived in the west.

Always the fool for aesthetics it was rumours of nighttime beauty that lured Charon to the falls that night. The sight of the moon was patchy -- it was clouded and so the moon guided him only about half the time -- and a light drizzle accompanied him, but not enough to be a bother through his fur. Accompanied by the rumble of the falls Charon sought a path leading down from the side of the waterfall to get a better look at it.