Stormfire led her tribe west, along the river, until they encountered Blue Rubble Mountain. From there, they backtracked east a day, then headed south.

Then the trees ended and grassplains stretched before them. Stormfire continued heading south, following some undefined instinct.

Seven days they've been crossing the seemingly endless grasslands. Three days since they'd last found water.

Season of Hot Sun

The Wolfriders, led by young Stormfire, their chieftess, have been traveling for eight eights of days. The season of new green has slipped smoothly into the season of hot sun. They have been following the great river west, passing through lush meadows and woodlands. Game has been plentiful - but so have signs of humans, and the Wolfriders have not yet found a place to shape their holt.

They have travelled by night and rested by day, as is their nature. One dawn they saw a oddly formed shape against the horizon - a shape rich in elfin magic. It called to them, that foreign-familiar taste of elfin-kind.

It is along their path and so Stormfire grants a rest for a couple of days to explore the tumbled ruins of a once-great mountain.