Something about the trees that towered high overhead reminded him of the gods his father had told him stories about. If any of the gods might live here, in these ancient trees, he would suspect Lieaibolmmai might be among them, watching over the forest and its inhabitants. The yearling was entranced by their unwavering strength and found his head tilted up far too high as he walked, silver gaze searching their heights. More than once he nearly collided with a smaller tree, though quickly recovered and continued on.
Though in many ways he still felt very much like a child, he was fully grown now, standing at an impressive height. He was nearly as big as his father, and growing bulkier by the day. It was strange to him that he was already experiencing his second winter - though the weather in these lands was kind of... opposite, in a way... and he was wondering if he should've started north to experience true winter as his father so nostalgically called it.
Either way, that was a worry for a different day. His gaze followed a bird as it flitted overhead, watching as it settled high on a branch of one of the wide oak trees. His large paws brushed undisturbed ivy aside as he carried on, humming softly under his breath, overall pleased with the weather of today and the direction he'd taken into the forest.
