| The girl walked underneath the trees, their high reaching branches thinning, their leaves turning startling shades of red and orange. Crisp fall sunlight dappled the ground, and as she moved through the trees, it was almost as if the light was dancing around her. Sunlight seemed to be dripping and cascading off her pelt like water from a river. It felt strange to be within these lands again; it felt as though she had never left. The woods were the same as they always had been, the paths she had taken as a pup were still very much there. But she could tell things had changed, she could smell it on the breeze. There was the barest hint of an acrid tang, and as she headed further into the forest, she could see shadowy scorch marks on some of the trees that spoke of something far more sinister than a fire.
She hadn't been gone for a terribly long time, but long enough for her feminine body to fill out slightly, for her paws to shrink to their delicate size, for her face to become more refined and fox-like. Kafziel had enjoyed her time away from Moladion, but it hadn't taught her much except for how to take care of herself. Out there, she had had no one to count on, and while she still didn't wish to return to Diveen and her family, she knew that they would welcome her back. She knew that she had to carve her own path, one separate from the angels and her mother and father and brothers.
Kafziel knew that she could make something of herself without the help of anyone else. She did not know what she wanted quite yet, and although Heyel's blood ran strongly through her veins she wanted little to do with the angels. It was an arbitrary label, one that she knew she needed to discard. Nothing would change the red and white of her pelt, or the dull violet in her eyes, nothing would change her relations to some of the most iconic wolves to have ever lived. But she did not have to reveal it to anyone new. She could do whatever she wanted having cast off her heritage. Perhaps, she thought vaguely, she would have thought differently had she had a chance to meet her grandfather like her older siblings had. But for her, Heyel existed only in stories.
Her pointed ears flicked as she began to hear the soft pattering of raindrops on the leaves that remained on the trees. She moved through the woods and pushed her way through the dense foliage into a small clearing that was decorated with a few brightly colored flowers. Kafziel tilted her head upwards as the rain began to pick up, turning into a downpour. It beat against her fur and ran in rivulets down her face, but she did not seek cover. The rain was blessedly welcome.
Kafziel
ain't nobody gonna get the best of me
ain't a preacher gonna save me now
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