Sawtooth Spire You must've gone and put a spell on me

Wylla had reservations about their relocation, as did Stag.. but for different reasons. Ever since their confusing meet with Zarya, Stag had been a little slow on the uptake. He'd never been a particularly fast wolf; some of it was just his youth, but some of his slowness he came by honestly. This was a bit different. It was like his thoughts muddled together, and sometimes he found himself just trailing off and not even remembering what he had been thinking about anyway.

Today, he was reflecting over meeting Melkor, and how he had, for the briefest amount of time, had the high honor of being one of the Men. It was a fresh feeling for Stag, who for a long time had felt out of place. Now he was feeling like he belonged, but their home was changing.

He'd already been uprooted before, so he wasn't particularly attached to where they were now. It was just that he was kind of tired of the constant change of things. Plus, things were different now. In ways he couldn't really explain. It was the same tension that Wylla noted, only she had a word for it, where Stag just kind of had a feel.

Coming across Wylla, Stag waved his tail amenably but held back. Truth be told, there was no wolf in Diaspora that intimidated Stag more than the she-wolf. He had seen a ferocious side of her when she had come to his aid with Zarya - but she also carried herself in a way that the boy, who was emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on certain moods, seemed constantly on edge. It was not like Mahler, who was guarded and mostly dark -- Wylla was readable in a way Stag had no idea what to do with.

Shy but not wanting to seem unconfident, Stag mumbled a quiet "Hi." before nosing at a bush behind Wylla.