sounding polar

Rannoch meandered along with the pup, though constantly on alert in case they were joined by another of his pack. Cloven hooves carried him over the changing terrain, not missing how the stony beaches turned to verdant plains. He was regretful that such grazing belonged to such a hostile pack. His own Verdant gaze wandered the stretch of sheer cliffside, marked even in the mid spring weather, with vibrant green mosses and lichens. The warming weather welcoming the cool grasses to grow. The slate cliffs would be a challenge for even the most talented of mountain goat.

Still careful to keep himself on the correct side of the wolf’ marked border he looked back to his guide. "These lands have good grazing, I’m sure your pack hunts here often?” He asked, not certain the pup knew the answer quite yet.

"Rannoch"