she had tracked her brother here. she had not believed it, that he could be alive yet after his abduction amidst the massacre of not one but two demon packs. She had grown up among the Angel Healers after the Berserker’s had been all but eradicated and she had thought that his scent was awfully wounded, stressed to a dangerous level. At least until the scent of swamp had meet with his wanderer’s one and she had decided that he must be among friends.

if he were alive, would he want to be around angels? after the massacre (which was almost kinder an end than he would have met if he had failed his tests after his first year and was deemed too dangerous for his demon marks mixed in). Archangels with black markings of demons? Too much of a risk to allow such a creature to fall into enemy hands if he could not withstand the tests… or so the elders had believed before they were set upon by a massive enemy force in the quiet of the night after a naming ceremony.

she trots now up and out of the crater where she found his scent with the two female ones, head low, white color blazing in the noon sun and catching on the bloody brow mark. she moves with all the confidence of a small continent. only her to command her movements, utter surety in her safety granted by her original training before her time amongst the healers. her brother was agile, but she was ever enduring - as sure as the rays of light that broke the world into morning every day. endurance was her specialty and no one would have known how very far she had come if it were not for the wildness of wilderness outside moladion clinging to her.

age, training, and the comfort of knowing her forsaken brother lived made her calm enough that the world does not hush for her approach and passing. she is not some demon, nor something of some heavenly host for all that she was born of those who would claim otherwise. she is wolf, female and adorned only in the finery of the wild, here. she carries nothing but a kind smile and a patient glance to her surroundings.

the world is at peace as it neared to summer, almost soothed by her presence as if she were more guardian than future destroyer. she did not come as predator, but as simply another living being seeking the next day by living the present one through.

when she at last finds a lake, she finds the stream that feeds it and dips her head for a tongue-full before lifting her lovely head to look towards a stray sound. "avete?" she calls, confused and not aware that there are wilder tongues unrefined to the words she spoke, "quisnam est illic?"