Porcupine Ridge ❝—berries tart & lilac sweet.❞ (wdg.)

after the challenge, three days of slumber ( on andraste's part anyway ) and uttered 'i love you's in the sacred space of their shared stonebed melkor is roused from his slumber. dutifully, the tundrian follows after his fey queen, ears attentive even if his lids are still heavy with the unshaken vestiges of slumber as she whispers of her plan. venison.

as they follow the path andraste has lain out at some point prior the grogginess thankfully fades. he can't afford to be sleepy in the middle of a hunt especially given the impression that it is just to be them.

soon enough a glimpse of the stag is caught from the corner of melkor's glacial eye; a shadowed and proud outline against the rise of the sun as it painted golden brushstrokes against the rocky slopes of the sunspire's womb walls. ❝there.❞ melkor rumbles, gesturing with a rough jut of his chin in the direction to point him out upon the unlikely circumstance that andraste missed the stag.