The fire-born child had not yet dared to venture to the furthest heights of Spirane. She had visited her mother and father daily to ensure their comfort and happiness and yet that was only midway up the mountain. She thinks that one does not often need to visit the highest peaks of the mount unless to ponder upon things of personal matter; of which she decides that she will do today.

There had been many of those whom had been born of Diveen who left to the mountainous region that promised safety. The scent of Angel bloodline was everywhere within Spirane now and Sera did not find it odd in the slightest that one of her family members had left a trail leading upwards. She traipses calmly and carefully as she ascends the slopes, her paws not yet trained upon the uneven and often deadly surfaces that the terrain provides. Her ascent is slow as she follows the scent path that the unknown member has left for her to follow and soon it becomes ever stronger as it is clear that they have stopped somewhere nearby.

Blackened paws move with ease as the rocky surface now flattens out and patches of grass spring from between the broken pieces. Ahead lays a large figured of darkened hues, one that smells much of her own family, and yet he looks to be a near relative, not a sibling as she had first assumed. She had been gone from Moladion for so long that she hardly knew any of her littermates or other siblings for that matter. They had all grown up and changed, even the youngest of them. It saddens her to think of the times that she has missed out upon since her absence and angers her that she had chosen a wretched demon boy over her own blood.

Waves of conflicting emotions overrun her mind now and her only saving grace is the jolt of movement from the male as he yips at her. It distracts her from her overwhelming thoughts and the look upon his face beckons her forward. She is unsure of how to respond to him, knowing that he very well may not even know who she is, if he ever had. ”Hello.” her voice is calm and tainted heavily in familiar Latin tones carried by her mother. It is the only way that she had learned to speak, from watching Isola’s mouth, the way her tongue danced to create such delicate words. It is still very difficult for her to phrase things and oftentimes she prefers not to speak if she has the option. Though she enjoys being sociable all the same now that she has returned home.