The north calls to him today. He thought of going south, but nay, the north seems to have a pull tugging at him this morning. The sun has barely risen, just peeking into the darkness from behind it's jagged curtains. He seizes these quiet hours to move under it's dull light, stretching his body out first and then setting off at a limpy pace toward the frozen mountains beyond.
Maybe the boys of the Tundra knew something of healing, because this bum shoulder will not due for much longer. His patience is nearly gone with it and it prevents him from moving at anymore than an off-kilter jog. He finds it much too constraining for his liking.
So there he is, just limping along. It's early morning and the cold fog has yet to lift off of the lands. As he goes deeper into the mountains toward his destination, the land turns barren and the skies twist into grayness. There are valleys of green still, but it's much different than his volcanic home. Jagged rocks cut into the surface everywhere, some as big as a large hill, just stone and moss and tundra shrubs. He plods along until he finds a small river, stopping to have a drink and look around for anyone about.
chemdog
astra inclinant, sed non obligant.
literally anyone
obviously i'm begging for an Offy experience, but seriously anyone
