He is a white mass of fur and growing muscle, a tank maneuvering with the slow, steady motion of a continent. Nothing can move him from his course, or make him move should he stop… or at least that is what his destiny will make him.

The build of his body supports the stubbornness of both his mother and father, the badge of the latter struck across his shoulders, the tips of his ears and tail, and streaming from eye to muzzle atop the color of his mother. He had her eyes as well. What he didn’t have was either of their sizes. He had the density of muscle produced by his grandfather Siegos (the largest wolf to walk across the mass of Moladion and to ever do so again) stuck into the body that was not much larger than his mother in it’s fruition.

He does not feel tied to the mountains, however they may feel most comfortable to him in climate. He wanders because he feels there are too many features to life there that prevent him from molding, merging, or even helping. Iromar he was too dense for, Diveen was too hot, Asteraia was driven by dark means and ends as per their leaders own chosen name Monster, and Taviora needed his type of agility, but could not support his thickness.

Glorall was therefore an obvious choice. Learning that there were even positions he might fancy solidified his decision. Arbiter was none too foolish a placement, what with his nature inclined to acceptance before bias -- and he had been able to talk his way into a few lives that otherwise had a bit of toughness. Maybe Arbitrator, then, being a mostly peaceable and keen sort of fellow who had more sense than speed or endurance in the physical realm. Or perhaps Trapper, utilizing his quick reflexes of his mind and his immense stopping power in a hunt.

Above all, however, The Engager and Hand kept his eye keenly towards Glorall as he went.

He did not know Eden from any other wolf, and perhaps he might not even enjoy the wolf’s nature, but all in all it was his best choice. Cool enough, not too wet or dry save by the shore, and a perfect mix of open meadow ringed to the shore by plentiful trees. It was also supposed to be a handsome sight to behold.

And that is how he arrives, a little short of breath, but confident in his limited capabilities enough to know that anything that might come upon him would be in a death trap the moment they came within neck’s reach. “Ah, finally.” He could wait in relative safety till a patrol of some kind passed by or noticed his scent just past the line they were walking.