Having caught himself a rabbit to feast on as the sun set (the irony of his kill not lost on him, of course), Jackalope sought out a place to rest for the night before he continued on his trek toward the South. He was in absolutely no hurry, of course; nor did he have the clearest map ahead of him. All he knew was that to find others of his brood, he ought to travel toward the South-West, and keep a day's travel or so from the coastline. It was no easy task, given the fact that the coastline weaved this way and that, occasionally making his journey more of an inland voyage, before it would twist east, bringing him closer to the ocean than he intended. Regardless, he would scout out the area as he went, taking note of landmarks as he passed them.
He had two choices as he proceeded- three, technically, but he had no intentions of scaling any mountains in the winter if he could help it. Ahead of him lay a rocky ridge and from what he could tell, by the clear, fresh white and the flat surface of it, a glacier. He didn't want to go too far East and pull himself too far away from the ocean- so he decided that the next day he would head west, toward the coastline and travel down it until he was past the rocky ridges. For now, he would lay in the shelter of an old, half-fallen spruce tree, plucking the fur off the rabbit so he could enjoy a nice meal to himself.
He had two choices as he proceeded- three, technically, but he had no intentions of scaling any mountains in the winter if he could help it. Ahead of him lay a rocky ridge and from what he could tell, by the clear, fresh white and the flat surface of it, a glacier. He didn't want to go too far East and pull himself too far away from the ocean- so he decided that the next day he would head west, toward the coastline and travel down it until he was past the rocky ridges. For now, he would lay in the shelter of an old, half-fallen spruce tree, plucking the fur off the rabbit so he could enjoy a nice meal to himself.
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