fourteen - no heart - Heyel's soul - Spirane
sister of warlow, dam of sven *adopted*
this is her in blackouts

The mountains were a place that called to her spirit. No other place could shelter her from the storms of her own making as well as offer both solitude and comfort all at once. The wolves here might not be the closest of creatures but that didn't bother Natu much. She was a hard worn traveler by nature and the mountains seemed to fit the ruggedness of her soul. She had been here from the last dregs of Moonglow's supremacy to the claiming of Daernery's. There were many who had been here far longer, birthed in the cradle of the valley below her den, but just because she was not born of this land did not make it any less hers. In life many search hard to find that lost piece of themselves. The mountains were that piece for her. Add to that was the black and gray figure of Sven that slumbered in her den and it could be said that Natu was truly happy. For he had decided to stay with her, the woman who had abducted him, a memory that she never had and regretted missing daily until this absolution had come along. It is rather sad that Raven had not known the love of a mother and Natu had searched so long for one to give hers to.

The gentle cry of another beckons and Natu pads on silent paws through the trees with the ease of one who has done this many times before. Daenery's is busy, she thinks, as there is much for a Queen to tend to. So many seeking favors and confidences. Natu would see what this traveler wished and perhaps invite them in. It is only as she draws nearer that she sees the distinctive coat of black and red and her ears pin back for a moment, eyes flashing in fury at the sight of a demon so close to their borders. A scar is puckered above her right brow and a long one on her shoulder, gifts from Lillith years before. The reason for so much strife in Natu's life. It is only natural she should harbor a hatred for those of the swamps, but as she studies the girl from the confines of the forest she is struck by the young age.

Is it wrong to judge one who has barely lived long enough to cause problems?

That questions lingers and although she wishes to chase her off, to hate her for being what she was, she cannot judge a child. And to her, Raven is still a child. Finally she makes her way to the girl, the sunlight brightening her alabaster coat and running through her pale blue eyes, like that of ice, which now rest upon Raven's with a wariness. She does not raise her tail nor snarl at the girl. In fact, Natu's face can be described as impassive.

"Hello, child," she says, her dulcet voice just as impartial as her face while her heart rages with itself. She does not mock the girl with her words, no, but to her Raven is but a child still, verging on the cusp of adulthood. "What do you seek of Spirane?" She would let Raven speak and would determine for herself if this girl harbored malicious intent or just the curiosity of one learning about their surroundings.