late evening | chinook coulee | Broken Clouds -13 ° F, -25 ° C
All of him ached something fierce that evening. In far too much pain to let sleep claim him and yet too tired (and too stiff in the joints, really) to consider a vague wander. Which meant he sat like a stone statue on the edge of creek. Head hung like his eyelids as he bobbed in and out of some aware consciousness. He would have never stooped to call himself vulnerable, but he had become very much that.
Until he snorted loud enough to startle himself upright once more. It would be a woozy sort of look that settled across his old features. Orange eyes squinted as his bad vision tried to spot someone to blame for such an awful sound.
He'd never admit he startled himself.
walleye cannot travel through mountains
and will travel normal terrain at 1/2 speed