I must learn to heal, more and more. I must learn to poison, to maim, to take away pain all while giving it back. There is so much that I must learn but Sen is busy, always busy with a family. It is for my own that I must do these things. I understand. Still, I cannot continue to simply exist within Taviora. If I am to succeed, I must once more leave the tangled root system that is my den. I must traverse the free lands and find Diveen, a place that I am surely unwelcome within. The memory is still fresh, as are all of them: my mother, my father, leaving us in the darkness of the den to wonder; my mother, my father, returning to us bathed in blood, extremities crooked and skin flayed. That is why I will not be welcomed. That is why I need to learn. It is why I will need to pay for my parent's sins with my own flesh, I imagine.

That is life. It only makes sense that it is within winter that it happens: winter is the time for cleansing, for penance. The weak die in winter. The weak pay up in winter. Of this, I am sure.

I move through the Crags with long, slow steps, my nose lowered to the earth as I breathe in each unique scent. I am not so sure I am on the right path, and I feel that I am dangerously close to Iromar. I am positive I can almost hear the mists calling for me, attempting to lure me into the darkness. I bite down on my own teeth, huffing in disagreement with this sentiment. Even if I wished to return, I know I cannot. Wolves there are too much for me - too everything for me - and I cannot see reason with being a part of a cycle that would surely end in me failing, and disappearing. It is within this action that I see something glisten; it is golden, a flash of familiarity - Zeteri? I cannot help but stop, my eyes attempting to flush out the true picture. I cannot help but wish for it to be Zeteri. After all, she is the first to make me feel important. She was... important. Such words could only ever be uttered in my own world, my own head, though.

As my vision focuses and another enters the scene, I bite back a sigh of defeat. It is not Zeteri and yet, something seems so familiar about her - that gold, that build. Is it possible for another wolf to half live within another? Surely this girl reminds me of her for a reason. I am intrigued, even more so as her scent creeps over the rocks and dirt to find me. It smells of water, fresh and mixed with stone and forest; of a different kind of pine, of the wolves that had returned on the fur of my mother and father. Of Diveen.

Slowly, I begin to approach, the pale form that is I blending in with the bleached rocks of the crags. I can hear their words, muffled and yet intriguing. Conversation is something I have so little of, so much so that I feel a part of me leap forward in an effort to be part of their words. As I come within an acceptable distance, I hear her speak of the male's ear - I turn towards him as I pause, shaking my head slowly as I turn back to her. I had come quietly, but there are few things our species miss observing. They seemed... kind, with their posture, and I can only hope they will allow me near them. After all, I must go to Diveen.

"Cannot fix... too long... too broken. Only manage pain."

I nod, assuring myself in part that I am right. It is like my father's tail, now crooked and bent out of shape for too long to fix. An ear, too, is not bone. It is soft gristle. Even from a glance, I am sure it cannot be undone. As much as I wish to say more, there is nothing more for me to say. I am not... used to this. Instead, I merely stand aside of them, shifting nervously atop narrow paws, torn between making eye contact and avoiding being corporeal.