Once again a queen, Winter has a budding army and plenty to offer them to keep them loyal. Besides expanding her territory, she is using her forces to chase specific creatures for reasons nobody knows. None of them seem to be connected.
The changes...
The Plains roll like lake waves, as wide as the sky;
You can run on for days and not pass a bird by.
The Grass Flats they whisper, grown over your head;
Trails are useless, so use other senses instead.
The Rock Flats are desert, a death trap indeed,
With not even a grass blade, a bush or a weed.
Cross the cliffs to South Shelha and forest you'll see,
Or a waving gold grassland as wide as the sea;
Cross the cliffs to South Shelha and shelter you'll find,
If you're willing to leave your north homeland behind.
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Loki crashed to the ground as the Drakon that had been carrying him decided it wouldn't make it over the cliffs and simply let go. Loki spat out dust and dragged himself to his feet. Lovely. Now if he was going to die of water deprivation, he could at least do so with the world's biggest bruise. He looked up at the monumental red wall looming above him. Well, on the plus side, he'd found the cliffs.
A glance to every other direction confirmed that nothing was to be had in the east, west or north. Loki debated baiting another Drakon. He still had one more crystal flake, shiny enough to tempt the creatures. It was a weakness of theirs he had discovered on the other side of the Rock flats, and thank Shelha he'd discovered it. If he had gone one more day than this without water, he would probably have been done for.
Mind you, he was still done for if he couldn't find a way up this Shelha-forsaken excuse for a mountain slice by tomorrow. Loki looked back at the cliffs. His shoulder made his neck twinge, and he jerked his head sideways. Hey, that was amusing. He tilted his head again. If you looked at the cliffs on an angle, it was like someone had broken off the edge of the Rock Flats.
It took until nightfall to find a way up the wall. Loki closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before kicking off the last rickety ledge to claw his way over the clifftop. He looked around and groaned. The land here looked like it might well prove to be as dessicated as the desert six tail-lengths below it. Had he really thought it wouldn't be? Maybe he'd mistaken the dust blowing off the cliffs' top edge for clouds. They were tall enough, weren't they?
Huh, he couldn't even find his own joke funny. Time to find water.
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