Even though everything was different and changed, even though absolutely nothing physical was left of old Moladion, Hawthorn could tell ghosts still remained. Perhaps he had not seen one, himself, but he could tell the other wolves returning home were haunted by them. Wolves that had somewhat come to terms with what had happened were suddenly skittish and uncertain all over again. Despite the healthy vegetation and returned fauna, it was as though they were walking on desecrated ground.

There wasn't much that he could do for that, he found, except smile and urge them to make their peace. A Medicine Man could push bones back into place, stave off infection, and encourage wounds to close faster... but it was near impossible for him to touch the soul. He didn't think he had that sort of power.

Hawthorn had been out looking for simple prey to teach Delta, Dimitri, and Sabriel to track and take down when Orca approached him from between the trees. He turned his great head and offered her a welcoming smile, temporarily giving up on his search for prey to face her with his tail wagging contentedly. Seeing her did bring him some degree of joy, as he could remember picking her up when she was a frail, fragile, and starved thing. She looked much healthier now and she was nearly fully grown. He felt satisfaction and warmth. He didn't need to be Moladion's hero to feel good about himself, no. He just needed to help save one soul at a time.

"Hello, Miss Orca," he greeted in his usual friendly manner, deciding on his own to close some of the distance between themselves with an easy trot. Her following question was on a slightly serious note, though, and while that smile of his remained it also grew a little thinner and more thoughtful. The watery pools of his eyes reflected understanding as he took a seat beside her, encouraging her to sit as well with a nod of his head.

"I would say... yes and no..." he started so helpfully, and then gave her an apologetic smile at his own cryptic answer. "I'm a born Gypsy... There's almost nowhere I go that is not, ah... strange and new to me. So though it is... strange... it does not feel strange that it is strange..." He trailed off for a moment and huffed a small, light laugh at himself and his own inability to explain himself. The laughter faded, however, as a somewhat vacant expression took hold of his eyes.

"I will admit to this, however... what makes coming here just a little different from anywhere else..." His large eyes locked on hers, though his head was tipped down slightly and they were shadowed by his lashes. "I feel as though I must be... tender wherever I walk... as though I were touching scar-tissue... an old wound..."