Bare brush whistles with wind through their fingerlike branches, one might never know the oncoming of spring here. It appeared bleak to him, with no sprouts shooting fresh and green from the soil. The screeches of birds and chicks were non-existent making for a too-quiet atmosphere. The treeless ecosystem lacked most vegetation he was used to seeing, though he knew the biome to have a very short growing season. There was little to enjoy here but enjoyment was subjective. What he thought was an opportunity for new experiences, another may see as a cruel form of punishment.
Though the roan knew that the land would be unforgiving, he was still surprised at just how very true that was. The acreage was hardly clear of snow, drifts still clung to dips in the land where they refused to budge. Permafrost caught at his daggers, a questionable situation to those that were unaccustomed to traveling with slick footing. He took it easy, carefully considering each step before placing his chestnut limbs to the ground. Rough shrubs barely teemed with life against the still, chill air. Though he was sure that to its residents, this might seem rather warm. Not so much for Weir, he was glad to be clinging still to his outgrown coat, to have that thin barrier between himself and the bite of the air. Rust colored tresses fly in whips about his neck and hindquarters, snapping in the air current in protest.
His amber orbs looked impressively up at what he thought could only be called ‘The Wall.’ Looming above him up into the stratosphere, was one of the largest monuments of ice he had ever viewed. A single break in its formation to allow passage, something he was sure rested well with the locals, and not so much for those who wished to pass unnoticed. Weir had no such motives, he was here on business, and a little bit of education maybe. He considered everything some form or other of education though. So to say it truly was may have been a stretch.
Sure that he could not be missed, he entered slowly through the passage, his usual sauntering gait. Seeming to have no concept of hurry, though he did stop on the other side of the blockade. Releasing a shrill whistle against the winds, hoping to make himself heard. An ermine scampers across the earth, catching the stags attention before finding its way back in its burrow. He was pleased with the sight, any sighting of animal life was a gift, as he was sure it would be rare. The populations in such a wilderness were very unpredictable, and therefore unstable.
