Sawtooth Spire and i'd call you atlas

❝hello.❞ melkor parrots back to the boy, offering him a small, encouraging smile. a gesture of his muzzle given as he invites stag to help with marking of the borders as mahler moves away from them. velveteen ears cup forth to hear mahler's words though there is a peaceful sort of quiet to be found up this high. the songbirds still sung and the woodland creatures chattered and scurried but it was easy to feel above the strifes of all other packs, all the noise, up here. ❝that's good,❞ melkor responds in deduction to mahler's words, giving the boy an approving nod ( even if his approval means little ). ❝you can never be too vigilant on the borders.❞