There was much going down in the Southern Eden of Relic Lore, that was for sure. To say that there was alot of Archers down here was an understatement. The bloodline ruled here, literally. He imagined it was like Torbine, in a way, where the Archer name dominated over all other lines in the area. He wondered if it would stay that way, if he would be so lucky. Power was a great and dangerous thing and he loved it. He had no intention of becoming some Leader, or ruling a pack of his own. No, but the idea of throwing his weight around just because of who he was, what blood he carried, was far too much to resist. He was, after all, still a pup and had a lot of learning to do before he knew his place in this vast new world.
Judas has been wondering the southern territories west of the mountain for a little bit now, having moved between the Rise to the Lagoon and now back east again, unsure exactly where he might end up. He still mostly wanted to find his brothers, mostly his full siblings for which he was obviously closest too. In the dead of night as it was right now, he traveled like a shadow the way he blended in. As the winds picked up, a cold and harsh gust moving over the land, Judas looked for a place to take a break.
Settled at the northern edge of Hush Meadow just as the forest to the north gave way, stands out a large tree with a hollowed out bottom in the trunk. The tree was large enough for two adult wolves to hide in, providing shelter from the elements in between travel or a hideaway while waiting for prey. Judas slipped into the Roamer's Rest with ease, circling around and sitting as he looked out from the opening, observing the meadows before him.