My lavender eyes flecked in ice blue and blood red have been rather...roamey lately. It is almos as if I do not know my place in this world and yet somehow I do not think that is the case, and when I think of my mother I sometimes think that the deep black of my fur drives her away because it reminds her of father, yes maybe the fact that I look too much like the father I never knew is the cause of her absence, but from what I have heard I do not think that I am like him very much at all. I remember that they tell me that my father was like a shadow, that he was even more black than I am with a patch of bloodied red across his shoulders- like wings. I do not have this marking so how I look like my father so much escapes me, the only colours marking my coat are it's black base, silvery gray fur, white, and russet. I have been told that I do not have quite as much muscle and power as my father had, and somehow I wonder if thbis look a like to my father, Phobia, has not just become that- a phobia- of my mother's. The bright white was concentrated between my shoulder blades as if someone had taken an eraser to all the colour there and it runs down my spine in a V like shape that I cannot see, my fur is of an average length but it is thick and jkeeps me warm through winter, it is especially thick around my neck and down my spine. I also have the natureal quietness to my movements however this is not so when I am distracted or upset, it seems any heavy emotion disrupts the ease of my silence.

Mother says I remind her of a sky at night-time, where the moon and stars all belnd in together into a beautiful tapestry of colours that seems to change just a little every night. Sometims I like to think maybe she's just a little too obsessed with the sky and the things in it, that maybe she should come down to earth a little more or at least once in a while, but I really don't see my mother- the eternal dreamer of the moon- doing that anytime soon. She still leaves frequently and even without raising any disturbances, almost as if she vanishes or fades out like some kind of ghost, though that's silly because ghosts don't exist. I have never exactly met a ghost, but I have heard stories of them, mostly told to young pups. To scare them into not roaming without adults probably, or just push them into a state of easy obediance. It's silly to think a wolf would materialize out of nowhere and devour you whole. That's as silly as saying those Iromarian demons suck your soul out, we all know they're just tall tales. Besides the demons aren't even scary to me.

I have a younger half brother called Aries and I saw him a few times but that's about it, I never really felt too compelled to meet him or investigate. The puppy was probably an airhead. That's mean oif me to say perhaps but, well I guess my mother having me as a son would have been more than enough for her, I guess I had somehow been wrong in this assumption, and she's never around and the kid has vanished anyways. Who knows, maybe some ephemeral ghost had plucked him away from our earthly limits. Maybe a demon had snacked on him for lunch. Whatever the case is I never see hear or smell hide nor hair of him, and to be honest I don't really care, he hadn't shown any real promise to me.

A greeting from another brings my attention, and my tail waves in a sort of mirror greeting to the boy's own. My head dips in response to his words in a sort of gesture of acknowledgement, appreciating the fact that he stops before he can crowd my space. "Not at the moment. ore like restless wandering. Too many things on my mind. I must sound like an old man, huh?" A half smirk pulls at one corner of my lips. Maybe I am an old man at heart. Who knows?