Redsand Canyon They're throwing bottles at your house.

The mountains have swept him away. It is as if Ursus no longer exists for Revui; it does, of course. He knows somewhere within himself that he must go home eventually. He is having too much fun coursing up and down the mountain paths.

When the scent of deer hits his nose he follows it - no plan in mind, no care at all to where he ends up - and descends a slope along the north face and gradually tracks an errant herd until the trees thin, the stone lightens to an eerie red, and there is nothing around him but struggling trees and dust.

The trail goes cold because there are no tracks; the summer wind blusters through a gully and obliterates them before he can recognize what he's after. It is frustrating for a moment only. A flare-up of irritation that smooths over when Revui glances over his shoulder at the towering mountain with its deepening shadow.

He presses on. Other scents parry with that of his prey but they do not interest him - he is focused on his gluttony and misses the obvious signs of canine activity nearby. It does not matter; if someone comes between him and his food, Revui will shift his appetite accordingly.