Who Can Stand?

Chrysanthos returned to the far west. A quick sojourn toward their old haunts revealed a land covered in ash. He hadn't gone far in, only until he saw a few inches coated the ground but he knew that farther inland there was likely as much as a foot of ash covering some places. It was terrible, truly terrible. He'd hear tell of a volcano that had exploded some time in the far past in his homeland. Much of the soil in the land became infertile and it was many years before plant life returned. In some places it hadn't returned at all.

Rain and snow followed the eruption swiftly and for that he was grateful. He hoped it would temper down the ash and hopefully was some of it away. Yet, even then many of the rivers ran milky and strange. It was going to be a terrible winter. Already he could sense the tensions between different packs as they moved in on the last remaining lands. Resources were tight. Chrys stayed in the dancefloor for a bit to finish his stores and to collect what he could. The Dancefloor was normally a treasure of plant life but between winter and the volcano there was little to gather. Still, he thought he might look for some elderberry bark and get a few poultices and items made from it.