Sawtooth Spire and i'd call you atlas

melkor follows along mahler and stag's path, adding his scent as they, as a trio, go; content with bringing up the caboose. ❝y'know ...i have a daughter about your age, stag,❞ melkor says then, realizing that it might seem a bit silly to say that given that q didn't live with them. in truth, he wasn't sure where she was; but trusts that she was capable all the same. she was a fearghal-ansbjørn, after all. ❝her name's quellcrist. she doesn't live with me, though.❞ he adds.

maybe it wasn't even fair to call her his daughter given he had little hand in raising her; too wild and too young to settle down. especially with a woman whom had already had a mate; or so that was what melkor had assumed the mayfair and elixir had been.

if nothing else, it was a fact about him given freely so the other two might know something else about him. something deeper than just his name, or that he's andraste's widow, or led courtfall. a question then rose from mahler, about the river and what they should call it. it's a snaking river, rimmed in ice and fed by snowmelt from the peak(s). ❝naming's never really been my specialty,❞ melkor admits with a sheepish chuckle before he turns to stag. ❝what do you think we should call it?❞