A warm harmony trumpeted over the range. The beckoning voices were soon joined by others until a joyous chorus echoed and reverberated through the mountains. Frito's ears perked as the song reached him. It crescendoed blissfully until it reached its soulful culmination and erupted in a celebration of barks and yips. Frito tilted his head to the sunny sky and let an enthusiastic reply rip from his lungs. It would appear the gypsies were at it again.

He descended the mountain, as he had been spiraling the spires in search of prey. Though his belly grumbled lightly with hunger, this was no new sensation, and the warmth of good company would go much further to sate his soul. When he finally arrived at the celebration, he jumped right into its midst. The air was electrified and so full of life. Once again the paths of strangers had mystically merged in a celebration of life itself.

Everyone was drunk with joy and taking shots of springtime. Frito held the gaze of several of the party's attendees, and without having to speak a word it seemed that entire conversations took place:

"Can you believe this blessed life?"

"I'm so filled with joy, and zest, and virility!"

"There is no better feeling than the warm sun on my face."

"Look at how beautiful everyone is."

Looking around, there was this delightful paradox of strangers in harmony. Every wolf was a different size, shape, and color, but together they created this stunning and very whole mosaic. That was something special about the gypsies, Frito decided. They were adventurers, wanderers, and vagabonds all joined together by their kindred spirits. In fact, while Frito danced, it almost felt as though he transcended the gathering to observe it as an outsider. Though it was organic, it was surreal.