Mammoth Clan!
In a vibrating room sat Virala, watching his moustache flail around and clean the place. He then focused, making the two ends press on the ground, applying enough pressure to lift his seated figure.
Slowly, up and down, he began to perform moustache pushups. There was a mild strain on his facial muscles, but he was getting the hang of it steadily, with concentrated effort.
Boom!
Suddenly, the caravan of houses at the end of the herd stopped as all the Empyrean Tusks came to an abrupt halt. Immediately in response, Virala's eyes shot open, his gaze hardening, 'Have we already arrived at that place?'
He exited his house and leapt to the terrace, peering at the terrain that spanned beyond the herd. It was an uneven plateau, with steep slopes running with reckless abandon, coming in all shapes and sizes.
