A king must know how to rule himself first.

He would have to find ways to entertain himself around the territory, he decided. And what better way to do that than spend a bit of time with the family? There was something that his father had said during their time with Amalia that lingered with him and fueled his dreams whenever he slept at night. His dad had once been a king, and only his imagination had told him what that kingdom had been like. He imagined it great and noble, surrounded by many wolves and on top of a mountain protected by steep cliffs where they'd send their enemies soaring to their deaths.

On this night, however, he decided not to give in to his imagination and instead, under the light of the moon and surrounded in a world of white, he'd traverse the night to find his father and ask him himself. He found himself following his father's scent down to the mines, though it didn't take long before he found the remains of a half-eaten lamb to distract himself with. He eagerly ate what was left on the corpse before remembering what it was he'd set out to do, molten gaze wandering the horizon in search of the golden wonder that he'd grown to love as his father.