Well... It was a bit unsettling for one as old as myself, to be so recently reunited with my son and my daughter one moment, and see their home kingdom robbed of them the next. Heyel had gone missing, and thus far no one had been able to locate him. This was a worrisome thing for the angels, for the ornery old man was no less cantankerous than he'd been the day he'd arrived in Moladian.... in what seemed like Lifetimes ago. And in a way, it was Lifetimes ago.

I hear Kane and Isola took shelter in the mountains of Spirane and I am comforted in that knowledge for the wolves of the mountain had always been kind and Just. Stella and her new partner took their brood elsewhere, to the heart of Asteraia. Being that such country was newly conceived within Moladian however, I know little of it's pack and how they operate. But I do not fear for Stella. Of all my children, it is she I am most certain that can care for herself.

I however, have no place within any of these realms. I know I could return and would most likely be welcomed back into the lands of Taviora, but I find I no longer hold much luster for the idea of growing old and brittle and lazy as an elder member of a pack. So I let my paws carry me as they will, towards the places most reminescent of times come to pass. The Grotto was the last place I had seen my Samurai King. After his exile I had visited Devil here many times. But the visits had become less frequent and more scattered. The black hessian that had always ruled my heart became more elusive and harder to find. Dare I hold onto the notion that he has not passed into the void of Death?

I don't wish to think too long or hard upon it. The memories of Devil and I are cherished but bittersweet none-the-less. To think of all that had transpired between us.... Trust, friendship, Love, Secrecy, Betrayal, Heartache.... Even if he did still live, there is no telling if I would find him. Or, if he'd want to see me.

Still, by late evening I find myself skimming between the pock-marked entrances of the Grotto. My muzzle tipped low, nose filtering through the many scents of travelers that have walked these paths. Nothing catches at my attention. Nothing stands out among the throng. But I continue to meander anyway. There is nothing better for an old lady like myself to do anyway.