Pandora had felt a sting of guilt at having made her mother descend from the mountains in order to meet. It only felt right to do so, however; after all, there had been a power shift that Pandora did not feel like being involved with directly. She figured she ought to wait and see if it was worth her time returning to the mountains, not willing to risk siding with the wrong wolf lest their be a continuous power struggle as there had been in the past. Still, she had done her best to find a location closest to the mountains' borders. Her mother was by no means weak or frail and yet, she knew she had her complaints when it came to extended travel. Pandora imagined that it why she had decided to stay behind despite her love for Spirane's prior ruling family. The roaming gene had apparently come from Pan's side of the family, you see.

The morning had broken some time ago, the sun hovering low in the sky as midday approached. The riverside's tree line opened up into sweeping flats of tall grass; Pandora, however, had found a brilliant location by the water, where the grass had been flattened into a clearing of sorts. It made it easier for her mother to find her, she supposed, as her small, pale form bounced through the grass towards her. Niviaq had never lost her grace, at least, though her eyes shone with some nineteen years of tragedy and awe. She had come happily, alight with a broad smile as she nuzzled into her daughter, choosing to ignore her complaints as she preened Pandora's golden fur and checked each and every inch of her. It'd take several moments for her daughter to get a chance to speak, her mother finally sighing in defeat and taking a seat across from her with an amused grin and cocked brow.

It didn't take long though, for her to break the silence and begin her tale. She had quickly covered the basics; she had met a male some time ago in a group and yet, she had been driven to be most curious about him rather than the others. In fact, she had even felt insecure and even jealous about those that seemed to gravitate towards him. Of course, this had made her mother's brows raise even higher, her lips taut in a smile (Pandora had decided that her mother was clearly hiding something.) She explained how she had considered going to the opposite side of Moladion to avoid him and yet, she had been drawn over and over again towards where he had been; hell, she had even found his scent once by accident, a fluke as she absentmindedly followed her paws. Eventually, the question had come from her mother: who was he?

"Tithe," Pandora had been quick to respond, her eyes flashing when her mother chuckled quietly to herself, "I suppose you know of him already?" "Not too well," Niviaq shrugged, though she had certainly heard of him among those within Spirane, "but he is certainly somebody. He rose quickly in Spirane's ranks; a true gentlemen, I heard. Smart, strong, or at least smart and strong enough to impress a queen who had seen many come before him."

That seemed to make Pandora squirm, apparently unwilling to accept it. After all, it was logical to be drawn to a wolf like that. "Then this is... purely something natural, right? I must be drawn to his potential. After all, I have good blood and so, that would make sense." That, of course, had made her mother laugh, her head slowly shaking as she tittered under her breath. "If only it was that easy," she stated, her eyes now roaming back to Spirane, where she knew Pan had begun to do his duties already, "but I think it is something else, my daughter. There is a magic here, I believe, much more powerful than simple biology. Let me tell you how I think this is..."

She began then, a story older than Pandora herself. She spoke of Faol'an and how they had fallen deep in love beneath the stars and how they had lived by the sea and river together. Pandora seemed to not understand, her brows furrowed in thought for she could not envision the feelings herself. Then, her mother had come to Pan and how they had met in similar circumstances - by accident, by a group, by the river once again. She spoke of how he had been so brash and how she had recoiled at first, unimpressed by the way he seemed to see her. Yet, things had changed and slowly, she had grown more and more driven to be near him. She had chosen to follow him through every trial and every change in the world; it made Pandora squirm even more.

"They call it imprinting," she concluded with a small nod after some time, her lips in a gentle grin as she watched her daughter's mind struggle to grasp the concept, "and it is something we cannot hide from or run from. We must accept it as it is a part of us -- after all, who are we if we do not accept all that makes us, well, us?" Pandora huffed. "I am not half a wolf," she stated flatly, her face dark with a frown. "Neither am I," Niviaq retorted, though her voice never fell dark or even sharp, "but your father ensures each and every part of me remains alive and well. You might not be half but you can become less than whole."

The concept seemed to baffle her daughter for some time; after all, she had never been inclined to think of such things. It baffled her ceaselessly and her mother did all she could to simplify it. She had no explanation for it, however, and so Pandora had asked bluntly whether or not it could be cured. She theorised, perhaps, that it had been hormonal - an imbalance! - and so surely some herb or root would cure her of it. That, of course, had made her mother laugh; in all her years, had she not tested and tried each plant she came across? Would she not have "cured" (a term she instantly detested) herself? Pandora could not deny that.

"So what am I supposed to do with him?" her questioned had been exasperated as she flopped onto the grass below, instantly coddled by her mother. "You must decide that yourself," she grinned, once more taking to grooming her daughter, a leg wrapped around her shoulders in a motherly embrace, "you can either choose to embrace a new part of yourself or you can choose to fight every cell in your body." She grinned sympathetically, a flash of memories reminding her of how utterly terrible she had felt when she had been far from Pan for too long. It seemed her daughter had no response as she mulled her thoughts over, staring up at the mountain that loomed overhead. Niviaq, on the other hand, had simply taken to doing as mother's do; she groomed and whispered secrets to her daughter, content finally to be allowed into her child's world once more. They had been apart for too long, and now, she could only hope she had been offer to offer some comfort.