"Tallsun is not as hot as I expected." Farenjer murmured under his breath as he slowly waded his way through the blanket of dried tundra grass. He turned his head to the sides to see how the gentle breeze toyed with the fir and spruce tree tops, how the midday sun glared at them all more softly than usual, and how beautifully lovely the Basin seemed to behold. "No one could beat a sight like this." He gave a small grin to himself as he watched the tundra grasses flow with the soft winds gathered within the valley.

He couldn't imagine anywhere greater to live than quite like this. Nothing could compare it to where he was born, the world that would always have a special place within his nightmares. With a hesitant glance, Farenjer began making his way towards a new storage area for the many materials and fabrics. The Crafter's Cave as they had stated it. The weaver made his way between the lake's shore, where small fish sluggishly swim by, and by the secret tent. He glances over at the meeting place, knowing that Deimos and Illynx had plans to enchant it into invisibility. He could understand that it would perhaps be.... difficult to find such a way as to do that.

The stallion turned away from the tent and advanced towards where several spruces nestled along the high peak's foot. As he came along the trees, his sights could easily determine a hole within the mountain, or a cave to be exact. Farenjer halted within its framework and looked inside to see if anyone was already within it. But his quick glances told him that there was no other presence. "Finally, somewhere to put my stuff." He stated as he looked at the large cave's confinements. He must start gathering the things within his small den immediately and place them in here. It was always so crowded in there with all his unused fabrics.

Silently, he turns around and moves along the trees towards where he claimed his cave. It was a very small place where he had crafted and practiced weaving as an apprentice. The stallion met at the lake's edge and began walking along it. His hooves pressed against the warm sands of the shore, his mane and tail being brushed by the gentle wind, and his icy orbs set upon the foot of another mountain where he had his little cave.

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