The Giant Beast was wandering in its own territory, the cold wind carrying the air into the crevices of its massive skeleton, never to escape again.
Just as it had been upon awakening, like a diligent old ox, it patrolled back and forth across its own territory, leaving the land riddled with wounds. Its deformed spine, Bone Spur, swept the ground as it moved forward, its relatively small head perched at the highest point of the skeleton, surveying the unchanging barren land from above, although its vision was poor.
Its vision grew even more hazy as it unwittingly wandered into a patch of fog. The blurry sight unsettled it, but that discomfort was quickly replaced by a sense of security from its thick body. After all, there was Bone Spur to navigate, so it didn't matter if its eyes couldn't see clearly.
