Tristan found himself with nothing to do one morning. The weather was solid. He had no reason to stay within the boundaries of their little fjord-side town. He knew about the trail that led to a remote waterfall for some time, but the snows made the passes untraversable. Until now.
"Brenna, come girl," he called and moments later the pup bound to his legs, leaping wildly with anticipation. He raised a finger, his own presence calm and steady, and waited until she was likewise before slipping on her leash.
More trees filled the land than Tristan had ever seen in his life. The westfjords were a landscape barren of giant life, which was likely why the trolls took up their residence in such a remote location. Norway was different, though. The rugged cliffs and invasive fjords were familiar, though. More so, the land smelled like home. The isolation different: like he was never truly alone here after all.
Though he saw nobody for miles.
He released Brenna's collar soon after, letting her roam free. The pup bounded away, but a whistle usually summoned her back. He could smell the directions she wandered, as well. Tristan did not fear losing her.
Meantime, he adjusted the pack on his shoulders, spared a drink, and quickly consulted the map. They were heading the right direction.
"Brenna, come girl," he called and moments later the pup bound to his legs, leaping wildly with anticipation. He raised a finger, his own presence calm and steady, and waited until she was likewise before slipping on her leash.
More trees filled the land than Tristan had ever seen in his life. The westfjords were a landscape barren of giant life, which was likely why the trolls took up their residence in such a remote location. Norway was different, though. The rugged cliffs and invasive fjords were familiar, though. More so, the land smelled like home. The isolation different: like he was never truly alone here after all.
Though he saw nobody for miles.
He released Brenna's collar soon after, letting her roam free. The pup bounded away, but a whistle usually summoned her back. He could smell the directions she wandered, as well. Tristan did not fear losing her.
Meantime, he adjusted the pack on his shoulders, spared a drink, and quickly consulted the map. They were heading the right direction.