King Elk Forest something beautiful happened here

Trajan did not linger in Rising Sun Valley. Briefly, after his wander through Swiftcurrent Creek, he visited Noctisardor Bypass, but found the memories of that land too bittersweet and painful to stay. It remained beautiful even after his father's departure, and the Roman saw, that in their absence, another pack had lived and died on those lands. It made him glad, for someone else had seen the beauty of his father's kingdom and chose to settle, but it appeared the pack hadn't lasted. Distantly, Trajan wondered if anything in Teekon Wilds, other than the Wilds itself (and even those were prone to sudden disaster and change) ever remained. 

He had left after a self-led tour around his old home and began his journey southwest. The Roman was a wolf of the North, has always been, but his search for a purpose in the northern lands had proved to be futile. Maybe, he just needed a change in scenery.  A part of him was nervous, unsure, but he pushed those thoughts away and pressed on. Romans were conquerers, after all, and what kind of conquerer would he be if he only stayed in the North and never moved? They would never conquer then, never explore. And although the greyscale soldier was never as fond of travelling as his father, he still liked to explore and found great pleasure in it.

Soldiering was more to his taste, though. Soldiering, advising, that sort of thing.

Still, when he first stepped foot in this forest, he was taken aback, a sense of awe falling over him like a heavy curtain. The trees here were huge, thick, tall and towering, and this forest was filled with them. Trajan sensed that they were old, and as he wandered, dipped his head in a brief sign of respect. Everything had spirits in them, souls of sorts, and it would be rude of him not to pay his respects to the spirits of these trees of the old. 

Trajan slipped between the trees, a wraith dancing in the shadows — they are his shelter, his camouflage. He has, after all, always felt more comfortable in shades and darkness than in the sweltering heat of the sun and the glare of light. The shadows that the trees cast were home to the Roman, but even in his wonder, the soldier was alert, eyes flickering, ebony tipped ears swivelling in an attempt to catch even the slightest bit of noise.