The Stag watched from afar as his kin made their claims upon the world. Many others had appeared as well, leaving their marks in various places. It was time, Sylvan decided, to leave his own. The skies darkened with their first storms. The rain came in torrents, and the thunder shook the heavens, heralding his arrival. Lightning struck, again and again. Instead of damaging the world, however, flora budded where the lightning hit. Soon enough, the world would be covered in grasses, flowers, and moss. At least, the parts of the world that the other Gods allowed. As the storm raged, Sylvan assumed the form of a young boy, walking on the clouds. The boy heaved once, and then coughed up a seed. The Worldseed. Sylvan used one each time he made the transition. It was the most enjoyable part of switching universes, for him. Worldseed in hand, he leaped from the cloud into a pencil-dive toward the stony earth beneath. When the boy that was Sylvan made contact, the earth parted before the force of his impact, and he sunk himself deep into the world. When he had reached sufficient depth, he deployed the Worldseed. It waited, hesitant, as if asking permission to do it's duty. Sylvan caressed it with one hand, and it began to shiver.
High above, on the world's surface, the entire planet trembled, as the roots of the Worldseed took hold. The roots spread with violent speed and incredible force. Entire forests exploded through the earth, all across the world. Sylvan ensured that the roots did not invade The Spiral's subterranean realm. He had no wish to make an enemy of the Changer of Ways. With the rumbling of the great storm, and the shaking of the earth due to the Worldseed's expansion, there could be no mistaking it, the Treefather had arrived, and the other Gods would know it.
Eventually, the rain and thunder subsided, and the clouds let the sun shine on the newly seeded world. Now, Sylvan, who was the great wolf, the runner, sprinted from forest to forest. Where he stepped, the ecosystem changed. Birds began chirping where there had been none before. Deer appeared, running beside him. All manner of forest-dwelling creatures began to populate the forests of the new world. Finally, the wolf's run was completed. The forests of the world were full of life, and the roots of the trees ran strong and deep. His conquest completed, the great wolf let out a loud howl of victory, loud enough for the world to hear. Now that the work was done, he took the shape of the young boy again, and brushed his hand across the trunk of one the trees. This one would be his home, for now. He climbed it to it's peak, and then commanded it to grow larger. It grew and grew, to the size of a mountain. From one of the branches, the boy that was Sylvan, smiling with confidence in his creations, watched to see what the others would do.
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