Silvertip Mountain Poslání

All welcome, as always!
Raedwulf?

Majestic mountains stretched before him, a striking reminder of his homeland. One peak loomed high above the rest, daunting and impassable, its summit shrouded in a pristine mantle of snow. Frenū drew in a deep breath of crisp mountain air, a quiet smile playing on his lips—this was where he would begin anew. These lands would embrace him; in Teekon, he would forge his new home.

Broad-shouldered and heavyset, his gait was ungainly, elbows jutting outward, each step a slow and deliberate sway. And yet, for all his bulk, he moved with an uncanny ease across the rugged terrain. There was something almost unreal about it—how could a creature so compact and rigid navigate the rocks with such effortless grace?

Lifting his head, he sought the subtlest whisper of the world around him. Eyes closed, ears attuned, he listened. The land hummed with life, a ceaseless flurry of movement—an anthill of restless souls. Scents tangled and clashed, layered upon one another, each corner of this place bearing the mark of those who had claimed it. Great men and women had carved their legacies into the very earth. And soon, he would walk among them.