Once this place used to hold the yin and yang scenery of Blossom Field. Now, there are miles of winding tundra. To the north, this tundra is cruel and dry, with wisping weaves of tall grasses. The ground is cracked and cold, and it hardly is ever moistened by dearly desired rainfall. To the south, the tundra becomes more prosperous - meadows of flowers and herbs grace the ground. Part of this connects near Elebeam Weargtreow - however it is an impassible field of poppy, which will put any wolf trying to cross it into a deep slumber, and eventually die.

Those looking to hunt here will find mice, snakes, and rabbits, along with pronghorns, bison, and javalinas.


your red right ankle

Twilight had settled itself on the lands, and as the day's heat withdrew into the cooler night, all kinds of creatures began to stir. Faroe was among them. The day had been spent in the shade of a hollowed-out log, napping quietly with periods of wakefulness where he staved off hunger until the sun went down. He had risen with evening's arrival and set off in search of something to eat. The young male loped casually along the freshly-marked border of the flowering fields, cinnamon-dusted paws straddling the stark divide between ashy dirt and soft grass. The contrast was striking. Faroe hadn't seen fire before, and so had no idea what to attribute the burnt smell and sooty remains to. It fascinated him that the whatever had wiped out half of the fields seemed to have decided where to stop, fizzling out right where he trotted. Why? A force so destructive surely could have ruined much more than just half of a wildflower field. Had someone caused it? What had changed their mind?

A sudden gust of wind sent a whirling trail of ash his way, sprinkling his creamy coat with a fine layer of soot. His pinkish nose twitched as he paused and inhaled, which sent a shiver rattling up his spine and ending with a forceful sneeze. Faroe's head spun, and he dropped his rump into an abrupt sit. His thin summer coat stood on end, and he raised a paw to wipe at his nose, snorting lightly and getting the air-dancing ash-and-pollen blend out of his face. While he didn't have allergies (as far as he knew), perhaps exploring in the fragrant fields first thing was not the best idea.... Still, as his gray-green eyes swept the barren territory to his left and passed to the verdant landscape on his right, he couldn't help but be compelled. The youth sat and hunched his shoulders to the wind, turning his gaze to the night-darkened flower. His red-tipped tail flicked leisurely as he admired the flowers, thoughts breezing in and out of his mind like so much ash - swirling in a cloud or falling out of sight, nothing to linger on for too long. He was still hungry, and he certainly hadn't forgotten, but it was nice to take a rest.


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