The Spider was not one to do his own exploratory work initially. Usually it was kinder on his body and time to "allow" someone the exclusive rights to knowledge to investigate a spot--typically a Fly if not a friendly business partner. However, he had been hearing strange rumors as of late, a susurration of fantastical imagery that vibrated his web ever so gently. And when it had quivered for long enough, The Spider simply had to act.
Magic. He had heard some stories among the Elves when growing up of the magical properties of the land, things the Terran had often spoken of in reverent terms. Frankly, he had never understood what was so amazing about every day occurrences in life: trees grew slowly, flowers were often bright, plants could be used to help heal you, yes...As they were naturally made to be. Not by some "Mother Earth". And yet here he was, checking on a growing rumor of flying monsters in the Bluestone mountains. Overgrown vultures, he suspected, and yet...The cold whipped about his legs, and he shuddered.
Best not to dawdle.
The Bluestone was in the peak of winter, and The Spider was grateful for his thick overcoat. He had looked just different enough than the other pups in the Court growing up that it had been a hindrance; now he could feel the snow nipping at him but not biting. A howl of wind soared between the pointed tops of smaller mountains as he rose. The Spider was not a winter wolf: he liked his riches and his warm bodies and his food, not this desolate white and gray landscape. That anyone could live here was baffling to him. Though he supposed the excuse of sidling up to another was enticing...Ah, how he wished he could have brought Fishbreath along. But she was a loud and obnoxious creature, best suited for combat and defense than reconnaissance like this. Most berserkers were.
...Bah, look at him! Since when was rumor chasing evidence enough for something to be true knowledge? He really needed to stop thinking of his old sleepy time stories...
As the day wore on, The Spider truly began to feel the chill settling in. He braced against the growing wind with a grimace, feeling his scarf stiffen with ice as he climbed higher and higher. The air was getting thinner as well; he had forgotten about that risk and cursed under his breath. But he was here. He could not turn back.
Something pierced through the slow curtain of snow. Suddenly, a flash of red broke the monotone grayscale with a piercing screech above him.
The Spider was...embarrassed to say that he was startled at first. Had he not heard descriptions of this beast? But this was no vulture, he could tell immediately. The feathers were wrong, the size and proportions all off. Could this really be...?
He ducked as the bird flew in and made a show of its claws as if intending to cart him off the mountainside. The Spider watched it circle around and away with wide eyes. This was not the simple and pretty beast he had been told of before: no, this was a predator, majestic and larger than life. he simply HAD to follow it now - even if only through his web.
(wc: 555)