Silvertip Mountain what could? nothing

the need to recruit presses heavily upon his shoulders; a burden he does not feel like he should bear any longer as umbra swiftly made her changes during his absence, but remains nevertheless necessary. clearly, the sealord was not cut out for the delicate act of diplomacy or navigating the colorful spectrum of personalities that might be taken into their fold. thus, the tundrian spends more time outside of the bay than he does in it for those purposes; marking the borders with his scent when he is in house, lest the wolves think he's left again.

silvertip looms high above the clouds but he has no interest in climbing it; if wolves were not lingering at it's base he doubts they'd be lingering any higher. his time was valuable and if they wished to meet umbra's deadline, wasn't too be wasted. the scent of the empress precedes her outline, but just. recognition is swift and wintersbane lets out a low chuff to garner her attention.