Moladion is strange and new, with new sights and new lore and new ways of culture, there is so much that I must learn before I can even begin to properly fit in amongst it's residents. The wolves here do not seem quite as hostile as the ones I am used to roaming the lands of my birth, hostility and temper are high in abundance back at home, with wandering wolves aways at each other's throats, war and love is what keeps my homelands running it had seemed. Where there wasn't love there was merely hate, it was never a tolerate area with a gray line. I could never understand it, why nobody just left each other alone if they hated each other so much, so perhaps another reason I had left was to make sense of it all, to find a place where there isn't just clear cut black and white, only destined to feel love or hate. I think I deserve more than that.

Moladion is so diverse and thriving, it seems just so mysticaly open and inviting, as if there are secrets and treasures of some sort around every bend and in every cave and crevice. Secrets that can be told via a whisper in the ear or a star streaking across the sky, in the way the wind calls through the grass and how the packs howl. I am in wonder and starry eyed awe, I almost believe that I can never truly fathom what lies hidden in these lands. Here it is where we are never alone, even if we have nobody by our sides.

Maybe one day I would tell stories that I knew from my lands of birth, like the wolfess that runs with the wind, and the wolf who speaks to the rocks. Both are good stories associated with the origins of my ancestors, maybe one day I would tell the one who has greeted me with easy companionship. " I thank you Natu." My lyrics are soft like a hearth side flame, bcause respect is returned where I receive it. You get what you give after all.

She speaks again and I listen with an attentive interest, after all she speaks of some form of magic, and this leads into an explanation of something called an imprint bond. "Does this...bond..hurt?" I guess I wonder how it would affect someone if half of their soul dies, wouldn't it be like ripping yourself in half? My head tilts as she speaks once more, telling me of the many packs and what sort of lands they inhabit. "I have heard the word Angel but not of the demons. I thank you for the warning of these demons." They sound almost like the shadow wolves of lore, and those were alway explained away as very dangerous individuals. She asks a question and I think a moment before responding in a thoughtfully wistful manner. "There were only two packs from where I came from, most everyone was a wanderer or in very small bands, like three or four, plus puppies if they had any. It wasn't as varied in landscape either, mostly plains with some rocky canyons. Not a lot of greenery. There were not angels or demons but those who believed to be descended from Fire, Water, Storm, or Earth."