February 8th; Early afternoon; Mist; -12 ° F, -24 ° C
It had been a year now since he had left it all behind - his pack, his newfound home, prosperity, prospective students, fame... and Zenyatta felt no different than the very day he had descended from his place on the rocky heights that were Transcendence Tor. Once a guru, always a guru, he had decided; and, no one was ever going to take that away from him. For a year, he traveled. To the reaches to the east then back towards the west, and now he continued southbound onto the meads that were the Lowlands. With only a frozen river to keep him company, the journey had been peaceful until the sudden and startling discovery of a circular formation of... what was that?
With caution, the rogue approached the peculiar landmark. He stretched himself forward on his toe until he felt he might faceplant into the snow from trying to sniff the pointed tips of the deer antlers. "Hmm," he mused to himself. Strange.
His grey-crowned head lifted up beneath the open skies, what traces of the clouds he could see amidst the gray haze that surrounded him. It would seem that Spring would be delayed a while yet. He paused to take in the endless sea of mist, listening to the world before staring back at the antlers. It was too quiet here. The plains-bound birds were probably nestled down in their frost-bitten nests, field mice and other rodents were warm beneath the ground, and the deer were all tucked away in the trees. His eyes had closed as he thought of these things. The warmth, security, and familiarity of belonging and being safe... But this was not the reason why he wandered; Zenyatta longed to instill this sort of consciousness in others.
Thinking of others, though, he realized that instead of meandering any further, he had the unsheltered lands around him at his disposal. His brow quirked as he eyed the Antler Ring; whether it had been constructed by others or not, it seemed to have been appointed as some sort of sacred place. This had to be some sort of sign that others were close. Raising his nose to the hidden Northern Star, he sent a warbling song into the clouded wilderness, alerting anyone near the area that he had arrived and was in search of kinship.
Embrace tranquility.