Blackberry Fields Mind the Thorns

So these were the so called berry fields that his mother had once called home. Solas looked over the area with a critical eye. It was covered in snow and there was a fog hovering over the land so he couldn't see much either. Maybe in the summer when everything was green and lush he would have to come back to see if it was as nice as the stories portrayed the place to be. He was also curious to see just how many berries would ripen in this place. Would there even be enough for him to taste one or would the birds eat them all up?

In the long haul it wasn't that important of a question Solas decided shaking his pelt to rid it of the stiffness that had gathered from the freezing fog. He didn't like the odd weight it created or the sound it made when he broke its hold. Quickly he began to move forward before it could form on his dark fur again, crossing the area with long strides. Even so he couldn't quite say he hated Winter even with all the trouble it brought. No it was Early Spring that he disliked the most. When the snow began to melt and the slushy puddles began to form. That was the time of year he hated the most especially when the footing grew unstable because of it.

Keeping one eye on the mountain that loomed on the horizon Solas tried to memorize the area. He might need to know the layout for some reason later on. This also meant that he was keeping an eye out for something easy to hunt. Maybe Lady Luck would smile on him and give him a wounded hare to snack on. A small smile briefly flashed across his face before disappearing, knowing that he wouldn't be that lucky.