Mace had expected something magnificent. He retained a few snatches of memories from Cut Rock River, and remembered it as breathtaking. He couldn't say how much of that was nostalgia and how much was truth, and he couldn't even say if it was Cut Rock River or Darkwater Rapids in those memories, but nonetheless, he recalled a stately forest. That Maksim would keep his pack alongside a forested river was a given, but this exceeded even Mace's expectations.
He'd never seen trees so tall. They clawed into the sky and towered over all other forests, their canopies so high that Mace could feel his neck ache when he craned it back to look heavenward. The sound of water in the near distance was like coming home, but the man was careful to stay well beyond the nearest marks left by wolves. He would not begin his attempt to rectify his wrongs by disrespecting their claim.
He rocked back on his haunches and took a seat alongside a smaller sequoia that was set a healthy distance from where the claiming scents were most concentrated. Even if he had been a mile or two away, he would still be able to smell them, and even being this close had its risks. The Attaya could only hope he was safe there as he lifted his snout up and howled a short, quiet note to grab attention and assure the river wolves that he was alone and harmless.