Trogoth's Rest was the secret place only the Stonefangs knew about.
It was a deep valley hidden beneath jagged cliffs of gray stone, carved over ages by wind and frost. From above, it looked like a wound in the mountain—a long gash where the land sank and vanished beneath the frozen ridges. Snow piled thick on the ledges, sliding down in slow sheets that vanished into the shadows below.
No light reached the bottom easily; the air there was heavy, filled with mist that shimmered faintly where the cold met the warmth of buried hot springs.
The ground here wasn't white like the rest of Heights. It was dark gray, almost black, made of cracked stone and frozen mud. Great spears of ice hung from the ceiling of the cliffs like fangs, dripping slowly, creating a constant rhythm of falling droplets that echoed through the vale.
