Empty Nest Syndrome

Sunlight spilled through the trees and fractured upon the rocky forms of the mountains. The day was unusually warm for autumn and Karabela was taking the good turn of weather to her advantage as she scrambled across the rock faces, a piece of buffalo hide she'd been curing swinging from her jaws. The Chieftan slid into her den and laid it out, flopping down atop it to give it a try. Ahhh…. nice and snug. Though to warm for this weather. Slipping back out again she went to check on the hunting stores. The small size of the pack would make it reasonably easy to provide for but they were still new to the terra and Dagmær was her only full time hunter. Thankfully there were numerous outcroppings, crevices and caves that served as decent shelter. They'd just have to watch out for bears though the terrain was trecherous enough that she didn't imagine many large ursines would bother to tread so high. Of course with the drought…. well who knew.

Sliding down toward the base of the mountain where the hunting would be less strenuous she heard the familiar howl of Bass. Grinning she shot towards it. She'd been curious how he'd been getting on as well as the state of Abaven and she'd been meaning to discuss trade terms with them but with all the settling in she hadn't been able to make the rounds as she wished.

"Bass! It's good to see you how are you?"

"Speech"