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So he had found that he had a connection up here on the blasted mountains. He didn't want to be rude to some one that he had just meet not that long ago, so with nothing better to do the male headed up the mountain, once again. This time he'd had two bottles of Rum, one for him and one for Fatin, and his knife, he never left his tree with out it. Up again, swearing and uttering things under his breath that would make people thought he was a sailor of some sorts, but he wasn't. He was just a child with some rough edges.

Reaching the top the male looked around, he wasn't sure what to do next, so the male stopped and sat down, kicking back and enjoying the cleaner and fresher air up here, up at the top of the mountains and the sun, that shined down on him.