Since the return of my Mother and the death of my younger brother, I have decided that out of all things, my family needs a protector. Father is a great healer, and, when she is well, Mother is most just of words and mind. All of my younger siblings are just that- much too young to have to worry about much of anything. But myself? I am the oldest, and the only remaining one of my litter, and I know it is time to learn all I can to keep them safe. I have not sought out Coza yet and asked him to personally train me, as I will soon enough, as for now I have taken to starting my training on my own grounds. I am of average height and build, and though I do not hold as much raw strength as power as my leader and friend, I know that I can have my own way of things. I am slender and agile, liable to twist and move easily where as larger wolves cannot. I can use this to my advantage, and though it may take me time, I know I will one day master my skill and my prowess. Today is not that day, and I am content in it, just as I am content to wade through the snow that covers the land here.

Without the tall trees overhead, the snow drifts in this meadow are thick though hardly compact. I am grateful the drift is light and airy, enabling me to push through with such ease it leaves me winded not at all. Dark violet eyes, which graduate to almost black around my pupil, sweep across the horizon and there I spot a smaller though perhaps older wolf. The way his body moves tells me he is not born to the mostly green lands of of Moladion. He is of Taviora, though, and this means he is family, thus my creme and golden tail rises to wave behind me. I do not yet know his name, but I know that I will after this day is through, and my approach is swift as agile paws bring my frame to him. I don't sprint to him, but my movements are fast so when I come to a stop there is quite a flurry of snow all around us. But there is a smile upon my beautifully creme and golden features, and though I am almost through my first year as a mature adult, there is still youth in me yet. Granted it may be dulled with such extremes within my family and those closest to me, but I am still warm and welcoming as I always hope I will be. I do not know of the demons haunting my Father, and if Fate has any kindness I will never know them.

"Hello, brother of mine. What might I call you?" My tones are young, but my words have always held an old soul quality to them. My gaze matches this as I watch him evenly, having to look down upon him but I do not mind this. And I hardly consider it 'looking down' for it is naught but the angle in which my jaw tilts to better look upon him. He is a curious wolf, quite rather slight in stature and with a thin pelt, so obviously not of this region or anywhere close that I find my curiosity getting the better of me. I hope he does not mind, and I don't think he will, but, one might never know. "And what land were you born in? Four years ago I took my first cry in the forest to the east of here." Perhaps the wolf did not care to know my past or my history, but, I wanted to know his and only found it fair and just to return the favour. Even if he had not asked for it. Perhaps I am a bit ahead of myself, but socializing- as social as I am- has been lost on me for a few years and it might take me some time to warm up and.. get better at it again. If I was even good at it to begin with, which, now that I think about it, may not have been very good at all.