Over the short two and a half years of Moonfeather's life, she had heard many stories of her ancestors. Her father had become quite the storyteller in his own right, recounting tales of days gone by when the mountains that now made up Spirane's range had been called by another name - Solevion. He told of the great primordial beast, Boneclaw, and her formidable warrior of a mate, Thunderbone. Together, they had been undefeated, reigning within the peaks until their last breath. But before the untimely skyfall - a harrowing story in its own right - they had brought forth children into the world. Among them was MoonGlow, a shewolf born to walk a different path than her parents - though perhaps parallel to theirs. Those children had had children, making the fierce leaders grandparents, and giving rise to a legacy that was older even than that most predominant lineage in Moladion - the angels. Moonfeather always listened with rapt attention to every detail her father offered, and when she was little more than a pup she could hardly believe that Sleekwing had been born to Solevion, not Spirane. He'd witnessed the skyfall, he'd walked the worlds beyond Moladion's border, and then come home again. So much had happened in his life, and Moonfeather only hoped that she could have half as many stories to tell to her own children someday.

However, she did not imagine that hers would be quite so chalk full of perilous adventures as those of her predecessors. Even MoonGlow, who was famed as The First Shamaness, had had her share of dangerous encounters. She'd gone up against avalanches to rescue a stash of meat that would determine the health of her pack through a particularly bitter winter, and fought off intruders who meant to harm the pack. But it was MoonGlow's softer side that her granddaughter took after so strongly. She had a caring spirit and wished to help others in whatever way possible. From her youngest days, as soon as she had learned about the importance of healers, she had asked her father to teach her everything he knew about it. But a warrior only knew so much, could only impart the most rudimentary of healing skills onto his growing daughter. She desired to know more, and for that she knew she had to look beyond her immediate family.

She had so much to learn, but she looked forward to the challenge that the vast knowledge of a master healer could offer. Niviaq had volunteered herself willingly, and Moonfeather had accepted the offer to mentor her with gusto. The basics had been covered in their earliest lessons, Moonfeather showing her inborn aptitude for the art of healing as she quickly mastered the vocabulary and fundamentals. She was ready for a challenge, and she was excited for whatever Niviaq had chosen for today's lesson. Jogging across the mountainside towards the healer's den, she wondered if Sila would join them today. Niviaq had spoken of her daughter on multiple occasions, but the two had yet to meet and work together as joint apprentices. Kutcha soared overhead as the girl made her way, the path familiar to them both and becoming something of a routine. When she arrived in the vicinity of Niviaq's den, Kutcha perched high up in a tree, content to observe from above, while Moonfeather settled some distance from the mouth of the den, patient as she waited for her tutor to arrive.