Around you the scree-slope is a warm ochre and, thankfully, firm beneath your tread. When at last you reach the top of the ridge the view extends out across the verdant plains to the East and rocky plains to the South. On the other side of the ridge you can see a scrub land dotted with clumps of trees that eventually dwindles into a desert which extends beyond the horizon.
"Nice eh."
Salahston steps up beside you and follows your gaze. "Being up here is almost like flying... Since I have no wings this is as close as I can get." She flips her stiff mane back. "I am Salahstron. Though I am a part of the Clan of the Black Dove I decided to become more of a patrolling Pah'llocki and help in watching over the Tir as my ancestors did. Many of the older Mahnon Pah'llocks forgot this, so intent were they on repopulating our species, which I do not berate them for, it was necessary. But now that has been achieved Allani said it is time to begin returning to the old ways."The mare grins. "Asides I was born and raised on the plains, out in the open. The Tors where my clan pastures are narrow and claustrophobic. Very *safe* but hardly free." She returns her gaze to the distance. "You have probably noticed that many creatures of the Tir, both fostered and native, have begun patrolling parts of the Tir, watching for dangers. With the momentary weakening of Allanon's shield and the entrance of the Bulette some other things got in from the wasted lands.
Body: w,Brn*
Mane: Blk,Blk
Markings: N,a
Forefeet: h,h
Hindfeet: D,D
Tail: d,d
Horns: u,D
Mutation: n,n
Sire: Tz'rhiannoc
Dam: Zyfnaia
Salahston begins to walk along the ridge as she continues and you follow along behind. "With her spell casting we actually managed to reclaim a part of the wasted lands as well... Some strange things have been found there, and more clues to the creation of the Mage storms which reawaken Allani's oldest memories. We are slowly healing the small part of the wasted lands that we did catch within the border but it will be some time before the ground is fruitful once more. The mage storms leached much of the life from the earth there and it is all but sterile now but we shall remedy that in time."
She pauses as the path splits into three. "Sometimes a few of us slip out into the wasted lands for a short while to check storm activity but we never stay long. Even for Mahnon's* the rogue magik can be dangerous."
Salahstron turns to you and nods towards the paths. One leads down up North wards along a wider and far steeper ridge up towards the mountain top, one goes straight ahead and up onto a greater range and the last leads down East into a protected but boulder filled valley. From here it almost looks like a stone maze.
"Now here you must choose your way. That way" She nods to the North. "Leads to the gryphon aeries and lairs of other winged folk who prefer the heights, then on, down into the scrub lands, the other descending path, West, leads to the lands of my Clan, that of the Black Dove. The lower ascending path ahead goes on up to Dragontooth Pass. It's a fair way but the view is certainly worth it! Now I myself must be off. Farewell!"
With that she bobs her head and tears off down the slope into the scrub lands.
* Mahnon Pah'llocks have no real magic of their own but are highly resistant to spells and magik surges.