None had wished to spar with her as of yet when it came down to her rise of ranking within Spirane. Perhaps they were fearful of what angel blood could surely do to mere mortals. It was a silly thought and yet such things had been bred into her; to be born with a confidence unlike all others. She does not ever boast such things, for that would be very unbecoming, though she believes in her grandfather’s preachings all the same.

She decides to make her first venture away from the confines of the mountainous borders and into the lowlands of the wildwood. In comparison to where she is currently living, anywhere else in Moladion is simply… too small. But she wishes to ease herself back into a normalcy here – something she is not sure that she is capable of doing since her recent nightmare. She works to keep her mind from the dreadful terrors that she had to endure for fear of destroying all of her hard work in regaining a stable mindset.

Carefully she moves through the trees and toward the looming crags that resemble so much of her rocky homeland. It is here that she feels most comfortable and with the scents of other heavy upon the air, she dips into one of the openings to snake her way through the narrow tunnel. It is not the same entrance that the others had used, for their scents grow faint as she carries onward, but soon they are strong again. She makes a turn at the first opening and pale light hits her tri-colored coat. Deep purple eyes squint at the filtered sunlight before they adjust to the sudden change and the gathering of wolves comes into view. They are all strangers, none that smell familiar to her, and yet she is not fearful of them. If anything, she is becoming curious as to why they collect around the decrepit one.