The joy of play should never be forgotten, she thinks. Too many wolves become adults and draw into themselves a more solemn attitude about life. The world was meant to be enjoyed and love was meant to flourish - to ignore such things is to let the dark in and once it invades it consumes. Sorcha had never given in to such dark feelings even when she was ripped away from her family and brought to this land, a prisoner of fate. She accepted that things were meant to be and here she was with Ramiel, whom the gods had chosen to be her soul-bond. It had all made sense to her even if others were confused by the turns of life. One only had to stop and listen to hear the music of the world, the faint echo of a time long past when the world was even more wild, even more primordial than it is today. Today she lets that hidden music sing through her body and alight each never ending, her heart kicking up and her mind a jumble of joy as she leaps towards him, secure in the knowledge that he will not reject her.

His yelp is one of surprise even though she does not feel surprise through their bond. In fact Ramiel does not even turn upon her with a growl or with a snap, instead falling down with her atop of him and rolling over so that his large paws batted at her face and she yipped beneath his jaw and licked him, followed by fake growls that were no more aggressive than a newborn puppies cries. It has never been her way to let things move at a snails pace - other imprints might shy away from jumping their imprint after only a few initial meetings but Sorcha did not mind one bit. She was sure of herself and of this world and of this bond.

Off she goes, skittering away from him with amazing grace and spinning around with a mischievous grin, tail arcing back and forth behind her even as he rolls onto his tummy and prepares to launch. Her mossy eyes dare him too, ears flicking back as a feminine growl escapes her lips, not fierce in the least, and then he leaps up and wraps his legs around her neck. He gnaws on her ear gently and she presses her forehead into his chest with a low growl, nipping and jerking on his fur before pushing forward in an attempt to thrust him backwards and off his feet, planning to leap atop him once more with a laugh of triumph.