The ghost of Iromar strode silently over the boarder of the pack and into the freelands. The ever present sound of the river lay to his right as he padded his way forward. Where was he going? Not even he had the answer. His wanderings were often aimless as he tried to find something to do with his time. Things seemed rather peaceful, as strange as that word sounded, ever since that young protégé of Blackthorne's and his annoying father had taken their leave of the swamp. The alpha had demanded that they search for the pup, but Zephyr couldn't be bothered. He had made his escape, both physically and metaphorically, and as far as the pale wolf was concerned, he had earned his freedom.

Freedom. He snorted at the word. What would he do with that? He had tried to be a free wolf, free of his parent's legacy, but all that had done was ostracized him from everyone else. But then Blackthorne had found him, shackled him, and gave him a purpose with others that had been tossed to the side by society. He hated him but couldn’t leave him. Veering to the right, the white wolf trotted to the river bank and found a small pool that was away from the wild rapids. The snow fall from the distant mountains had caused the once calm river to rage uncontrollably. But this area was relatively tranquil and he took advantage of that to ease his dried tongue. Lapping at the water, he ignored the silt as the cool liquid filled his empty stomach. Then, he saw the face looking back at him.

The multiple wounds covering his face were still red and healing. Each bite his mother had landed on him had stung, but not as much as the words she had spoken to him that day. It had brought him great joy each time his own fangs landed a hit on her flesh, but he knew he could never hurt her in the same way she had cut him. Turning from the pool, his jade eyes caught the movement of another wolf nearby. It was only a glimpse, but he was sure he was not alone. Instantly, his hackles rose as he crouched low to the ground, the tall grass concealing him well enough. The next sound was unexpected. Laughter followed almost at once by singing. With his ears standing forward, he moved closer until her found her just moments before she toppled to the ground.

All was still. Each of Zephyr's senses was active, trying to pinpoint what the stranger was doing. It wasn't until he heard whimpering that he tip toed forward to investigate further. Nosing his way through the grass, he found her sprawled on the ground, a paw entangled in the reeds. She certainly didn't seem like much of a threat, but that didn't mean he was going to let his guard down. Seeing her up close, it was clear she was twice as old as he was. Had he been another wolf, he would have found himself laughing at her predicament. Instead, he stepped forward, and stood above her with an expressionless face. "This is a dangerous place for a lone wolf to get trapped in. Monsters dwell nearby."