Sawtooth Spire and i'd call you atlas

@Mahler or @Stag or both! :D

settling in new places was easy for melkor; maybe too easy. adjusting did not require much of an effort but he's spent his whole life on the move, never allowing himself to be rooted to one place; while that was not expressly true anymore he dedicates himself to staying with the wolves he has pledged to lead, those of courtfall that have remained. merging with diaspora, however, was new. he doesn't recall anything like it happening with any of the numerous pack's he's ( briefly ) called home; lest of all sharing leadership with stranger. he knows it's all new territory and all of them: valeian and diasporian alike will have to adjust.

but he's confident about it all the same.

melkor tends to the borders; new and freshly lain, adding his scent to the mixture as he maps them out. eventually, he will come to learn them like the back of his paw so that he could patrol them in his sleep. he pauses to brush his shoulder against the bark of a tree, pawpads pushing past snow to scrape against the still cold earth.