The air was filled with the smell of salt. The land that stretched out before her was flat with a few scattered trees and shrubs. For a long time, the black wolfess gazed about, trying to see if any of her friends dwelled within the pack. She could see none, though perhaps they were hiding deeper within.

All she knew was he was here, somewhere. When he had come to her, his pelt has smelled of sea salt, marking him as a member of Glorall. Pagan was here and she wanted nothing more than to be where he was. For too long she had been alone and her heart yearned for the company of other wolves. True, her flower friends had provided her with some companionship, but they couldn't sing with her or hold her close when she felt lonely.

At first, Tikal thought she could return to her family. Then, she remembered with a lump in her throat, she had no idea where any of them were. Scattered to the four winds, leaving her behind to fend for herself in the forlorn wilderness. Perhaps it was time to make a new family! And so, she picked herself up and followed her nose until, at last, she had arrived at Glorall's door. The only thing left to do now was ring the bell.

Lifting her muzzle high, she called out a welcoming howl, her voice squeaking slightly from lack of use. The wind carried it deeper until she was sure someone had heard. Breaking off, she tilted her ears forward and listened as the last notes died away in the distance. Then, resting back on her haunches, she waited for her future to begin.