Ra’s liked to think he was fairly charismatic. He had always been personable, that one guy out of the bunch who could find a silver lining to any situation. He pulled silly pranks now and then, busted his friends chops regularly, but always held an openly friendly heir if he could. He had gotten it from his Papa, his Mama reminded him constantly, the dark wolf without a face that made a guest appearance in his dreams now and then. Ra’s barely remembered him, just a tall black figure and a wide smile, but he felt that he knew him still through the shared memories of his troupe. They said he looked like him, all but the eyes and that bright little saddle on his back; acted like him, a real joker and fun guy. And when his Mama and he had eaten, it was often preceded by a toast to his Papa.

Mama had done her best to raise him on her own, though she was never quite alone. The rest of the band hand filled in where his Papa might after he had passed and Ra’s could not claim he grew up without a male role model. He had several, in fact. His family, his troupe, had cared enough to see to it that he did not go without, that he was raised well and would live a full life. He knew little of personal cruelty, though he had met cruel wolves. He knew there were evils in this world, but he had been brought up knowing that there was also a great deal of good so long as you knew where to look. It was up to the individual to fill their life with good, to live good, and to make good.

She was good.

The tall boy watched in captured fascination as her deep blue eyes widened, two jewels crafted from a clear summer night’s sky just after twilight had settled into dusk. The color was rich and dark, fathomless and he felt as if he could look into those eyes forever. But as much as he thought, the rest of her was just a beautiful. She had fine, graceful features even for a young wolfess, and her coat was fashioned of a pristine white… save for the bit of debris that littered her front. But even with that, it was natural. The dirt and moss, if anything, only accentuated the perfection it tainted.

As she humbled herself with a small dip of her head and flattening of the ears, Ra’s straightened up with attentive ears perked forward in interest and gave his dampened banner a friendly wave. She had nothing to fear from him, no reason to shrink or bash away. This girl was magnificent and heavenly and he wanted very much for her to feel as such.

You know her, his heart told him against his mind’s better knowledge. For a thousand years or more, since the Earth was young, you have known her. It made no sense, and yet it felt perfectly sensible. Ra’s could not claim to understand this feeling, not in the very least, but he found no will to deny this sudden, gravitating connection. Small as she was in mass, her pull was greater than even the planet’s. His paws found another step forward as the girl shook free of her litter in a dazzling display of dancing sunlight and fresh white fur.

He found a tug at his heartstrings like none he’d felt before as she giggled from his own brisk shake, a small squeak of a sound that was all too feminine and soft. The water that had pelted her face garnished her like platinum beads, giving her a particularly sovereign appearance, and when she spoke he found himself leaning toward her words as if reeled in by an invisible string.

She was not one of the angels, she said. The meaning was lost on him, no doubt, as she was most certainly an angel if ever he saw one. But there was a name, Riopat, and a couple of titles to go along with. She was a healer, perhaps that was why she had been covered in dirt and moss. Gypsy healers were often as such when they returned with a fresh bundle of herbs. And she was an adventurer, a girl after his own heart and how it felt just literal in the moment. She said she would allow him to call her an angel, though, and he found it fitting. Even if she denied such a thing, she was an angel in his eyes and he would make her see. He did not understand to need for this, but he felt it as strongly as he felt the need to hunt or drink… perhaps even more so.

The black boy might have said something then, but his words were held off quickly by her short gasp and he found silence. His head tilted curiously, wondering what might make her so nervous to gasp and busy her paws with the moss before her, but his smirk only pulled back into a charmingly crooked sort of smile at her question. Was he lost? Certainly not. He was right where he was meant to be.

”Not entirely,” Ra’s found his answer in an easy, pleasant tone. ”It’s hard to be lost if you don’t have a place to be, at least in the literal sense. Though, perhaps I could say I am. Lost, at least, for an explanation as to why I am so struck by you.” His words were spoken with sincere contemplation, though they remained pleasant and hinting at playful. He was not one to hide his feelings and he was surely feeling more in this moment than he could ever recall before.

A name. She had given him her name, and he was foolish enough to forget his own. Rude. ”I am just Ra’s,” he added on with a cheerful bounce of his head. ”But a lonesome gypsy and adventurer like yourself.”

and I've been doing just fine