Moonspear Seeing Stars

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As hours pass and wetlands give way to a sierra terrain. Behemoth mountains rising towards the heaven’s and he thinks, with a small pang of envy, that they are much closer to succeeding than he. They would always bow before the heavens close enough to touch the vast celestial unknown. Envy aside it takes his breath away as verdant gaze takes it in as a painter takes in a Maestro’s work: with intemperate admiration. So swept up in the change of scenery is Mato (despite that the mountains have been in his view for an hour or so now) nearly forgets that his father walks alongside him. Until Sebastian breaks the silence that Mato’s revere leaves in it’s wake. The empyrean gives a start, taking a moment longer than he should have to process the words that his father spoke. Something about stopping and respect. The druid offers a sage nod of his head, paying more attention when Sebastian offers an explanation as to why they should stop where they have: because the marks and fresh and their message is clear.

His father is right, the starlight king thinks as he cranes his neck and sniffs at the scent markings of Moonspear. None of them are familiar, but the message that the urine markings give off is blatantly clear. “Right.” Mato agrees. Best behavior. It comes to his mind to make mention that he is always polite but as that is not always true he holds his tongue, keeping his response of understanding as simple as he can.

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