Sawtooth Spire and i'd call you atlas

❝windholm it is, then.❞ melkor decrees in his rasping rumble, approvingly, as his glacial gaze moves from his companions to the water, noting a rabbit on the other side of the bank hopping to the icy edge to get a drink. in a moment of rarity, melkor is reminded of himself as a cub as his gaze goes back to stag; and while the tundrian could not speak for the diasporian princeling, he knows that all he'd wanted as a cub was to grow up, to be one of the adults. ...before he'd turned into a mercenary flitting from pack to pack and selling secrets ( though he only told moonspear on the cusp of war with blackfeather ); and mostly that was because he'd wanted to impress her and see vaati and aries admit that he was the superior cub.

a second rabbit joins the first across the river's bank and melkor's brow rises as he takes note. ❝there might be a rabbit warren nearby,❞ he remarks then, gesturing to them with his muzzle. ❝maybe after our border marking we can investigate, hunt up something to eat?❞ he suggests.