88 Winter 511 A.V. The Northern Wastes The morning had been cold, as always. The wind had picked up from the northern seas, blowing inward with crashing waves that both shattered and clung to the icy coastal walls. High in the Taldera mountains and hills, teeming with slumbered life, was one particular being who roamed freely. It was a black cat, from a distance, which prowled the grounds as if his own. His head did not lay low, his steps were not so careful, and he cared little for what scents he took notice to unless they held promise of meat. He had laid his claim to this land, and thus far had gone unchallenged. Being so near the city, Avanthal, it came as no surprise that his competition was lacking. The cat, which, judging from the air with which he carried himself, seemed something almost proud than merely dominating - a hint of his sentience – had been prowling for some time. He was nearing the end of the wood, past a clearing, and back through the thinning dead forests toward the sheer side of a cliff that would rise over him. The ice forms were always spectacular. As fate would have it, this more than intelligent, yet proud, cat was indeed a kelvic, a great cat still though. He had, in his duration in the north, laid his claim, marked by scent, and hunted the grounds he called his own for a time. Still, as a resident of Avanthal he needed to pull his own weight. He needed to bring in the goods for Frostfaun Hold, if he wanted to earn a living at least. He was passing through the clearing. His mind was numb from the cold and lacking of any real stimulus. There was the wind, and the crunch of snow, but not much more. He was brilliantly warm though, even in his own fur, thickened by the cooler months to preserve himself. As he came passed alongside the slope of the mountain, a stronger gust swept up snow and frosted his black coat. Something flickered from the corner of his eye, something coming upon him. He was looking up. He hardly had time, but he fell back and prepared for the worst to come. He hadn’t smelled her; she was hidden from the wind. Leaping from the ice forms, on ledges, on Tiki, was some majestic snow leopard out for blood. She caught him off guard. He might end here. |