Sawtooth Spire when i've always been distant, and i've always told lies for love

Leaving home was the last thing Stag had considered -- in the days that followed his first birthday it only seemed he was more entrenched in Diaspora -- for better or worse.

His ears tilted forward at the suggestion of the two of them being travel buddies; Stag's tail involuntarily thumped in excitement. He was a terrible orienteer -- but with Mahler around, they were unlikely to get lost. Maybe he could learn from the stony patriarch how to better navigate the woods, and his senses. "I'd like that." Stag murmured shyly, wondering when it was they could start..