I do not particularly understand why these wolves have chosen I, the Butterfly, to go with them to these unknown lands. Am I not but a young pup? I am not large and I know very little. I will be of no help on this journey to the other world, a world so far and a world so different. I am a pup of Spirane, I am of the RAINBOW so bright and brilliant. I am what flies in the sky upon wings of many colors. I am free in my spirit and it causes me a great restlessness. I am finding that I am not liking being controlled, although I am finding that I don't think about it much. It is hard to explain, my disdain for being told not to follow my natural desires and instincts.

A real Butterfly, flies free upon the morning light. Their wings graze the very clouds in the heavens above. I, am slowly realizing, that I am a Butterfly of a different species. One chained to the ground even though I leap. I may be the Butterfly, but as of right now, I am not free.

It is a wolfess that wakes me from my slumber. Mother was already awake and wandering, as she usually was. She doesn't sleep like I do, my RAINBOW. She gets up many times during the night, and takes naps many times during the day. She generally leaves me to my own devices, asking me to play when her eyes catch me when she is awake. My Mother is the kind to spend her days in joy, and I only wish I could see the world through her eyes. Yet I am stuck here, in my dark blackened form. I am a shadow to my RAINBOW, and I find that I can only dream of burning as brightly as she does.

My growing paws carry my young form up, my tan gold eyes looking up at the female with my ears pinning on my head. I find myself feeling as if I should follow her. I know that larger wolves have power. Their fangs can bite and life my very form in the air. I do not want this violation of my freedom to take place, and yet, I feel as if I am a prisoner of some sort. I am hesitant only for a moment before I follow. My paws carry me in the general direction that the adults go, but my eyes...my eyes wander around at the surroundings. I see many things I have never seen before. They are wonders, each and every little thing. I find myself swerving here and there, wishing to pounce and play on random leaves and sticks in this changing season. I keep my mind to stay close, but I am oh so torn. I want to wander free on my own.

I notice the world twisting its smell into a different tune. I hear the distance sound of glistening water tickle my very blackened ears. I find that the older, bigger wolves finally stop. My eyes eagerly look around me, and I bite my lip as I let my paws wander a few feet away as they speak. I am more interested in other things in life, and yet, when I hear the howl of the male, I find my head turning like lightning. My black paws sudden race over to his side, as my silver and white masked face throw up into the air in my own song next to him. Puppy tones, light and fun escape my lips. I cannot say I can control this song that seeps from me, but I find that it is an instinctual rush I can enjoy.