Solitary life did odd things to a wolf. And for a wolf who was already rather strange, it only served to make such traits more evident. Throughout the winter Raum could be found often playing by herself, tossing the remnants of kills up into the air and then pouncing on them like a fox when they hit the snow. Her only contact with other wolves was when she hunted them, and with easy prey harder to come by she had strayed further and further north. Passersby along the fringe of Moladion were easier to take unawares. But without fail she somehow always ended up back at the heart of these lands.

The strange girl had been called many things in her life - Raum, daughter, creature, monster...she'd even been called The Black Prince once, which she didn't understand at all. What was a black prince, and why was she the black prince? An odd conundrum, but like most things she did not concern herself with it, the twists of her mind casting it from her thoughts as soon as the wolf who had uttered the phrase had filled her belly. But there was one word she'd been called that she had taken to with gusto. Murderer. She liked the sound of it, the taste of it, and the way it rolled around in her brain.

She'd neither seen nor heard from the shewolf who had gifted her with the title since the day they'd met, but she remembered her. So when she scented her on the spring breeze that afternoon, she took to it excitedly and sought the wolf out. "Murderer!" she called, before she actually saw Grimoire. Bounding forward with the exuberance of a pup reunited with a parent, she came upon her suddenly, sliding to a stop in a mess of exquisitely long legs. Truly, she was a beautiful wolf to behold, a mirror image of her grandfather, but she only considered herself as 'perfect' because, well, that's just what she was.

---Voice Claim---

"You can't change your nature. Some fear you. Not me! Some loathe you. Nobody likes you. That's just the way it is!"