It is night, peaceful. The largest wolf there ever was and ever would be, The Red Baron takes steady thudding steps with giant paws as he crosses into the world of Moladion - following the scent of Asthore as he has done for almost a decade. He craves her, his bloodline as a true and full Nanruan stripping him of any chance for Imprintability. She is his Lifebond - the Chase having ended with the conception of his only known-living child Ifrit. He knows little else about his line, knows little more than what word could reach him after the Bear Massacre. He had stopped in Nanrua to see what had come of his first home and birthplace - finding it devastated by the Bear King and the wolves recovering slowly.

               His face twists up in the memories of scattered carcasses left to rot where they fell. It was gruesome. It seemed that in his patricide, fratricide, sororicide -- well, general populicide -- had ended in a weakening in the wolves of Nanrua. The loss of his family‘s bloodline had shattered the breeding stock and The Alpha-Blood had bid the left overs to branch out and find their neighboring pack - merging the two lands and then separating themselves when the Lifebonds had been created well and intermixed. It was strange. Rare were the monstrous sized wolves. Rare were the beasts who could take on the other Royal creatures now, thin was the blood of the Nanruan People and yet he would not save them beyond a few suggestions and a shake of his head.

               The old male was not young enough to lead now - never had desired to since he slaughtered his family. It is good that his muzzle was already white, for he would have showed his age if not. Even his whiskers were turning white when they would fall out and regrow. His muscles rippled yet, but the chiseled nature is no longer as stabilized as they once had been. He moves slower now, his amble the movement of one who has seen much - far too much - and has yet one last purpose. His Lifebond clutched him by the throat as he goes, defying his age, his weariness. It defies his age that he has followed her for so long - but the heart of this man that stands before our scrutiny is greater than even time itself. He loves with all his being - taught by a world so near and so far from Moladion herself. His belief and strength in the Lifebond put to shame most imprints in the land where he had established his first and final love.

               It is beneath the Mother Moon, goddess of Nanruans, that he hears her song. A song filled with history, longing, love, and loss. It is a song of family, a song of him. His fur stands on end as his very being lights with the meaning of the notes and realization that it is sung from within his grasp. Chills prickle down his spine and his molten gold and yellow streaked eyes burn, giving vitality to the old male. Alpha and Omega he has been and yet none of it holds meaning without she who sings to the night. She who held his dead son as though every part of himself was precious - no matter how in vain it was that she loved him. Lev had distracted her, true - his adoration and affection undeniable. It was when Lev had been gone, though, that Siegos could love her without guilt, without question. It was a long year and a half of debate - but in the end, death had decided for them. Death and love and Lifebond.

               A deep, rolling, thunderous voice rises up. His bass tone bellows up into the sky to mingle with her own, marrying the end of her song to the beginning of his. He sings of family murdered and love‘s sweet savior. He sings of children born and children lost. He sings a song of grief for Bacchus who would never live and for Ifrit that lived on yet. It is a lament, a exaltation, a prayer, a wish, a revival of soul and mind and heart. He sings and his great red mass lurches into a galloping run. Thunder peals from his giant footsteps and his song rumbles across the closing chasm between them.

               And all at once he is there before her, before his beautiful Lady Love, before her - his Ever-Blessed. The legends reunite and it is a night of greatness. He her master, she his mistress. King and Queen of their own era, of their own legend. Commanders and Lovers of Solevion, of Trenus - of Indarus Thicket and Amaia Creek. Their stories merge, roil like two great monsters in the deep, coils slithering in and over and between. The great red male stands more glorious in these moments than ever he had before - for his eyes were laid upon the woman of his heart and longest desire. “Asthore, Asthore --” He speaks, his deep voice so full of love that the heart could not bear its load. “My love, my life.” His chest heaves, his run and sudden relief wracking his lungs.