Although the star gifted demon child took after both parents in the fact of her reclusive nature- there were two wolves not of her blood that she often sought the company of. The first had been Ark, the angel boy who had come to the swamps to make a home for himself, and who also happened to be her very own imprint. It was thanks to her parents that she had found him before even seeing her first winter through, but then again the stars had an interesting way of doing things. They had spent little time together, but of course they had many years ahead of them and their bond would become what it may. The other wolf had been the medicine wolf of Taviora, a pale phantom named Sen. Now, Sen was only with them a short time, and thus Najira had spent much time with him and learned all she could. Healing was an interesting subject to her youthful mind- one she enjoyed all aspects of. Life, death, and everything else in between. Before his departure in the very early spring, he had even brought her a gift that she coveted and carried with her everywhere. He himself sported a waterproof otter skin pouch, and because of the obvious wetness of the swampy moors, he had left his latest creation of one in her care. He had told her he would simply fashion himself a new one, and since he had never had a student to the extent that Najira was, it felt only right for him to leave it behind.

Perhaps, even, little Najira had come to care for the older wolf in her time spent with him, and would one day seek him out in the forest pack he called home. But for now, there were more important matters in her own home that needed tending to. For several nights the stars had been telling her something; telling her to wait for the arrival of a ghost wolf who would need her. It was why she now watched the trio of wolves who were at the edge of one of the more clear pools of water, right in the heart of Iromar. Glacial eyes with their flare of a darker sapphire around her pupil watch not Aithne or Iscariot, but are instead intently focused on the pale wolf with so many wounds littering his body. It was him, it had to be him, and with her small mouth readjusting on the rather large scruff of her otter pouch she is approaching them. She arches her delicate paws so that she may come slightly to the front of them, young and curious eyes never leaving the wolf she would come to know as Paldor. He had obviously just bathed himself of mud, blood and debris but several of the wounds were nasty and already festering. The chocolate brown girl with her red facial markings, mane, spine and tail offered nothing but silence as she looked him over, analyzing him as she did and coming to a decision. Delicately placing her pouch before her paws, and in between her and Paldor, she's then rummaging through the opening before extracting a generous mouthful of small black seeds. What is generous to a yearling wolf is minimal to an adult, but she will wait to figure out just what his pain is like before offering more. After he would hopefully take them from her, her silence is still stretched out as she returns to her pouch once more.

This time, her small jaws are full of a nice, dry and fluffy moss; moss she has diligently cleaned and dried for purposes such as these ones. But rather than offer it to anyone else, or move to use it on him, she deposits the paled green yellow tufts atop her bag, her lips finally moving to offer her words in her own way. "I am young, but I will help you, as you will help me." Najira does not smile, but she nods her petite chocolate and crimson skull so that she may know if he understands her. She is very much in a working mindset, but she does take the moment then to look to Aithne and then Iscariot, if they were both still present, and offer them nothing but another dip of her skull. She had no interest in pleasantries at this time; the stars had told her of this meeting, and they were important to her and thus this was important to her. She had to help him, in any way that she could, even it meant help from the ghost wolf himself.