Often times, when I laid my head down to rest, I felt as if I lingered in a place between dreaming and reality. It was there that I walked with my ancestors. Sometimes I was surrounded by wolves – some who I had known in the waking world, and others who I knew only there. Other times, I sat upon the summit of Spirane, though the mountains held a different shape than those that I knew, with the great primordial monarch Boneclaw. She whispered to me about Solevion, the mountains that had given birth to the range that I now called my own. But always, even when I searched for her, my mother remained just out of reach. We watched each other from afar, and on some level I knew that she was waiting for me to truly be ready to walk with her once more. It was from one of these dream states, in which I could see only my mother’s luminous lavender orbs, that the chuff of my sister roused me.

I rolled onto my side, slowly stretching the away the aches in my neck. My ears tilted towards the cave like den’s entrance. Sleep left me quickly as I heard my sister’s words, and I was pleased by her arrival. A new day was upon us, and there was much to be done to insure a strong foundation for the kingdom I wished to rebuild. Rather than answer her in speech, I removed myself from the den and emerged to greet her as sisters should. I pressed the side of my face into her neck, allowing her own face to caress the uninjured side of my neck. “Good morning, Orca.” I shifted then, encouraging her to do likewise so that we might face the sunrise to the east. My injuries were still quite sore, and I harbored no desire to tire myself so early in the day. Together we could sit upon the ridge just outside my den’s mouth and discuss matters of the pack.

Stretching my legs, I took another step forward and extended my hind legs each in turn before drawing them beneath me and reclining onto my hindquarters. Drawing a deep breath, I released it and the early morning air clouded before me. It dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and then I turned my eyes upon Orca. “Tell me, how would you have me carry on our families’ legacy?” It was a challenging question, for it not only presented the issue of how to return Spirane to its former glory, but also how to instill in the minds of both Spirane and Moladion’s wolves as a whole that this was a pack of old blood; older even than the angels of Diveen. Our family had ruled the mountains for decades, and Moladion needed to be reminded as such.