So where exactly are you? You came in like a falling star from the east, crashing in a riot of color: rusted red ferns, radiant sunflowers, and a distant blue sky. There's more in the memories there, but you kind of choose to ignore that for now, and drift on like the tumbleweed you are.
He's no stranger to mountains. They've come and they've gone under his paws before, passing like so much else. Still, he's pretty fond of them - there's something about the view... As the sun slips up behind your shoulder, shadows forming and lengthening and then ceasing as your eyes narrow from the harsh glitter of sunlight on some distant water... Ah, yes: Malien likes mountains with good views, and as far as mountains go, the Mountain of Dire was certainly A Mountain and as he'd passed down on its western slopes he'd admitted that yeah, the mountain had put up a good fight. But Malien had won.
In the background there's the thunderous rush of water - in the moist air, little droplets forming and sticking to the tips of his fur, the alluring scent of thick, rich and untamed forest. This.. this is what a forest's supposed to be like. It's very different from the forest around Fool's Gold Chasm, and he mulls on that as he walks along the rocky edge of the pools southern shore - one ear on the forest, as always. Dusk is slowly creeping in, the western sky turning burnished orange and a damp chill spreading in the shadows. The stars slowly brightening promise a cold night.