I shouldn't have wandered so far from home, or maybe it was because of the white wolf I followed here. She wanted to see if we could find someone special here, to see if I had another piece other than my brother. I don't think I need to be going this way, but curiosity and the authoritative tone in the older wolf's voice made me follow. How was I to know she wasn't really there? I followed her through Moladion, traveling to places I had never seen before, the white wolf calling my own home Trenus. She called it Paracon sometimes too, but only when I went to the canyon. The mountains we had seen she called Solevion...their name now is Spirane, or so Mother told me. A few other lands she called different names, the crater she never did want to go near and often went off to do her own thing if I even looked like I was going close to it. She also didn't like Glorall, though she called it "home" or Judila. I always thought it odd that she had become more than a dream after I met the rigid male in the woods. I wanted to know more about this dark male, so I made myself a rather interactive shadow. So far, I have learned that he lacks patience.
Either way, we are drawn here, my white guide and me. And I look around at all the faces, trying to spot a familiar one, and looking every bit like I am lost. I sit off by myself, sticking out a little, though I openly let my yellow eyes search over the gathered crowd. What made them do this in this season? To gather like this? Was it the same thing that made the pack want to hunt? Or was this something else, something I had yet to learn about?
"Talking."
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