The less she knows the safer she will be, and safety counts for much in this world that's tearing itself apart, and nobody knows it more than I, the avatar of winter. Things are not always as safe and placated as they may seem, my blood cinnamon and black outlined eyes can se ethrough the veils this place puts up to entice us in. I have seen many dark truths of Moladion and yet still I remain, here to stand tall in the faces of it's dangers and it's lies, refuse to be pushed around by traps and attacks, I have got something else that no wolf native to these lands or others possess.

What else can we do but take what ragtag bits of peace and serenity we are offered? My attention is caught at her speaking my name, my glacial eyes that fade towards the red of hellfire as it moves towards the pupils study her in curiousity. "Both of birth and by earning it. It means ring of ice in my native tongue. Back in my homelands I was the feared ice dragon, the best warrior in the pack." The light played with the dark silver hairs intermixed in my coat, flowing through like water and making them glimmer and spark. I am the incarnate of winter, as my pack is famed for, we lived on icey plains and snow covered fields. All year round that was our scenery, that environment is where I am most at ease, I can blend and hide if I must and here in Moladion I cannot so well. I don't intentionally draw attention, nor do I like it, but it happens as things often do.