Of course I am curious. Is there something so wrong with that? I was curious before it all happened though; in fact, I had been curious since the day Tithe had taken the throne of Spirane from the male, Roman. Both had held the throne for some time and yet, there had been a static quietness in relation to their diplomacy. After all, I had expected Tithe to send an emissary to Glorall soon after having succeeded in his efforts - I had seemingly assumed wrong and so, I had grown curious as to why that might have been. Who served in his ranks? Who had he extended a paw towards? Perhaps he had proved to be much more cunning and much more clever than I had initially expected - less honor, I think, and more ambition. Perhaps he had been smart enough to keep his treaties close before he attempted to seal security to the east. Still, I could not simply stay idle when so much unknowing presented itself in the west.

So then, I had taken to the paths that lead towards Spirane. It had only been a coincidence that I had left the region the same time as Daenerys, a woman whose call of challenge came the very morning I arrived on the eastern borders of Spirane. It piqued my interest, her delay in challenging a curiosity itself and yet, suddenly, I am on the very pinnacle of opportunity.

I see it in a simple way: if I traverse the borders, and inspect the area just beyond, there is little threat. The pair will be preoccupied finding one another and battling and, when it ends, my scent will be washed away one way or another. If Daenerys takes the throne for herself, she will remove my scent with her own and assume I was there on Tithe's terms; if Tithe, otherwise, retains the throne, then I can play the fool and remain on the borders, claiming patience while he defeated the usurper. It is seldom that an opportunity like this presents itself. It makes my flesh prickle with excitable anticipation.

The borders are my path then. I travel the opposite direction of the upcoming fight, swinging towards Taviora's own borders as I toe the line between the invisible line and the world within. My strides are long and purposeful, a guise of belonging as I watch into the slopes of stone above and the forests below: two packs, I suppose, for the price of one. I am the world in between, never quite close enough to be punished. Never quite close enough to be suspicious to any other and yet, I leave a trail of salt and sea behind me in any case. I am an outsider perhaps and yet, who would take it upon themselves to question my reasons while two wolves seek each other's blood only miles away?