Deepwood Weald to cut away the mountains i've made

Marruz couldn't shake the rock. Indeed, it wouldn't budge. And it seemed that, no matter how much the brute perturbed him, the boy was slightly reminded of his brother in an antithetical way. So he just kept walking and, occassionally, he'd glance back to see if the fellow was there. It was odd because this stranger clearly had no grasp for social norms. He was tied to the world from a completely different perspective.

That's when genius struck Marruz. With such a curious creature at his disposal, why not learn a few things? Have a bit of fun? Yes, it was time that he indulged his mischevious yearnings at least for a moment. It wouldn't be anything bad, after all. He couldn't bring himself to blatantly hurt the vile thing... Not yet, at least. 

Slightly irritated and slightly intrigued, Marruz halted in a similar manner as before, but this time he rammed his head at the beast of a wolf; reminescent of a billy goat as he thrust his ears against a meaty shoulder. He recoiled quickly and lowered himself to a stance akin to that of a playbow, tail wagging despite himself. It was something the darkling had never done before — playing — and it looked quite foreign upon the youth's shadow.