Nimbus Summit it's more commonly known as dancer's hip.

Whatever sun had risen that morning was hidden now behind a thick sheet of grey that stretched across the sky. Penn had noted its disappearance, but it hadn't done much to deter him from wandering away from the territory. Nor had the wispy flakes of snow that had begun falling lightly and now fell heavy across the black that striped his spine. He had come across signs of what he suspected were deer and the prospect of snagging himself a decent meal was too exciting for something so inconsequential as weather to deter him.

The Blackthorn had tracked them across the edge of the sweep to where he tread now at the base of the summit. The trail was growing more and more apparent in spite of how the snow tried to pile upon it. The storm was clearly slowing the herd. It was slowing Penn somewhat too, but he was hopeful he was still moving faster than they were. Once he caught one (because of course he would--he's Penn fuckin' Blackthorn), he wasn't sure how he'd manage to get it back to the pack. That was a problem for later, though, so he stuffed it to the back of his mind while he continued on.

@Nellie