Blacktail Deer Plateau this divine right to genocide

It seemed with the tossing and turning of sea and earth, winter had followed him.

Though streaked still in it's autumnal hues, the snow was a welcome sight in light of all that was presently going on. Smoke still plumed heavily to their east, the coast remained a proper mess, and the earth still remained discontent at their feet. It had become the usual for Valtari; he was no stranger to quaking stones or frothing seas, but there was certainly more unrest here than what met the eyes.

He too had noticed the scarcity of prey. It was a troubling note for a pack that was in the stages of an upheaval that did not rest and with the snow, he wondered if it would get worse. He wondered just what Aningan would do, if anything at all.

For now, he worked to satisfy his own hunger—what good would he be, if he could not care for himself—and rooted through the undergrowth for anything that would clue him in on where to go next and what exactly to find. His ear turned at the footfalls of another nearby, but his head did not raise. He doubted they came for him.

feel free to ignore him