Gods, how did he end up here again?
Sawyer Archer was finding out the hard way that he was very much not his father's son. Yes, he was selfish and figuratively born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he knew now he was so much more. So much more than his name or what his father had done before him. In his trek across the mountain, he had put those fantastical stories of Willow Ridge behind.
The shadows and trees were not for this red-crowned prince.
So, off he went on an invisible path... right onto Fools' Gold Chasm's borders. As soon as that hefty musk hit his senses, his lean legs backpedaled and he clenched his teeth into the quarry in his jaws. The scruff of the hare had torn days ago and carrying it by its torso was the only means of transporting it now.
At first, he simply listened. He waited. The scent trail had to be only hours old. Someone was nearby. Amber eyes scanned the frozen ferns before placing the hare on the ground.
"Hello," he called out, stepping over his white-furred loot just in case of an ambush. Knock, knock...
(This post was last modified: Dec 12, 2021, 08:29 AM by Sawyer.)
you musn't be afraid
to dream a little bigger, darling
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
to dream a little bigger, darling
⟡ ⟡ ⟡