The Sacred Cliffs loom over the canyon so long ago lost to all but the Wild-Ones, having only one entrance, and only one exit. The crag is far too dangerous to live upon, and even in the canyon there is little safety from the shifting rocks and prowling mountain beasts, save for the small lake-cove at the southern end where the cliffs break outward, and in the center of the wider northern reach of the chasm. The trail between is narrow, long, and dangerous, rarely traveled, and the most awesomely beautiful thing that living eyes have ever seen. There are many springs and small rivers in the north, but there are none upon the path, and they are often frozen far too high to reach in the winter, and the herd must journey south, through the horrible and wonderful pass. But the southern cove is stalked heavily with predators, and though many are not very dangerous, a foolish horse will easily be brought down in this region. Grass is lush and abundant in all areas, though thicker in the south, and the winter snows do not reach the canyon floors. One can almost hear the past and future converse in the insignificant pass, overhung with rock, in constant danger and excitement. Be there a brave and intelligent herd among you, be them to dare the Sacred Cliffs.

The History of Sacred Cliffs