The great, shaggy man had taken to wandering the Halcyon Mountains when he wasn't needed in Ichika - he was there the majority of the time, but he enjoyed walking about his former mountainous home. He felt the sticks and crumbled leaves crinkle beneath his heavy feet, his cloak pulled up over his head as to hide his perked ears. The great dog moved slowly, deliberately, like almost everything he did - he let his mind wander and let his body do the walking for a moment, letting his mind touch the sentience of the animals and the trees and even the dead grass and leaves that crunched underneath his careful and slow step.
Everywhere in this area was so full of life - his birthplace had been as well, but not so much as Nova Scotia, which was teeming with the miracle of it. Worms underneath the ground squirmed, he could almost feel it - birds above called out to one another, letting the wind underneath their wings carry them to places far, far away. The mammals on the ground - squirrels, mice, rats - ran from the great mountain dog's steps, and he could hear the pitter-patter of their feet on the floor.
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