The Sunspire the gilded age has long been done

Sure enough, in a matter of minutes as he skirt3d near their border, a dark-haired wolf came out to investigate. Mordecai caught sight of him in his perpherials and slowed to a halt, but not before a quick test of the air. Something caught his attention for a brief moment, but it was in passing. It had been something sickly and yet sweet; leftover meal, perhaps, left to rot along the wayside.

The quiet intonation of the warden forced all his attention to the forefront, mostly if he wanted to hear him. They were pointed words, but not without the curious expectation. He could have called them kind. "Just out for a bit of exploration," he replied gently. "I've met some scouts from here before, but I've never been close enough to admire the height of your mountain." His gaze, which had been lingering beneath the feverent gaze of his greeter shifted skyward towards the peak. It was magnificent to a degree, but not the tallest Mordecai had ever lay eyes on.