The stars had been the ones to guide her away, and the stars had been the ones to guide her back. She was all that her father was and everything that her mother was not. The stars had bid her to leave everything she had known behind, including mother, father, belhara, arkane, aithne; all the rest of the wolves of Iromar. She had been well on her way to becoming healer; her interest in the subject having been born even before it was the Taviora forest wolf Sen had paid a visit to the swamps. When the pale ghost of a wolf had spent time in their pack, the star touched child had become ravenous in her want for learning. Still to this very day Najira carried with her an otter skin pouch. It was certainly not the original that had been so beautifully and meticulously made and gifted to her. But it was however a close enough replica to be satisfactory. It was only after many trials and errors that the chocolate brown wolf touched with russet stardust had finally figured the process out.

It truly was a gift—her adaptability and ability to understand apply prior knowledge. She had been so young when the stars had told her to go, for truly they had not taken her against her will for she had always been glad for their company. They never left her side, their presence was always with her and she could feel them like a gentle thrum in her chest. There had never been a ‘why’ to ask, for that wasn’t a question they could answer. Yojimbo’s blood ran thick through the half demon wolf and that was more than enough for the stargazers of her past heritage to outshine and diminish any hint of demon. Najira is a stargazer, a dream walker, and there is no room for demons in dreams lest they become nightmares.

She had experienced dismay at what she had lost all those years ago, upon request of the stars, though she had also accepted that the result had not been their intention. It had merely been an unraveling of fate and what had already been written. Much like the Skyfall that Yojimbo had been allowed to see in order to save wolves of Old Moladian. Not all had heeded his warnings, however, and many of them perished for it. There had been a limited time to gather the wolves, and she felt familiar about that situation because there had been limited time for her farewells when she had taken her leave. It had been important for her to do as they bid, precisely as they bid, as it always had been and always would be.

The stars had bid her to go to Taviora as she left, to find the pale wolf with the golden markings upon his coat. It was him the demon wolf thought she sought. Though instead of finding him, Najira instead stumbled upon his daughter. After an initial and brief explanation the Taviora wolf came to understand and accept the swamp wolfs presence in her home. It seemed the pale female with golden and russet accents had some sort of past in regards to Iromar. But since Aithne’s rule there had been nothing but peace. The chocolate wolf could see the softening of the dark violet irises at the topic of the stranger’s father. Though stranger she was no longer for Najira had learned the daughter of Sen to be Reian.

For some time the two spoke and reminisced about what they had learned from Sen. The stars had guided her here for what she thought was for one thing but was clearly for another. The half demon left Moladian only after that and both she and the stars were satisfied, knowing she was on the right path. And yet with each step away that petite chocolate paws took, Najira felt something growing thinner and thinner inside of her. Before she knew what was happening that something broke inside of her, leaving her wondering if she was still alive or not. Sure enough her senses came back to her, and she knew that she did indeed live. However, now that it had finally happened and they were severed, she could no longer feel him. She had found him to be her imprint from such a young age that she was so accustomed to the feel of him; the lack of him caught her very much off guard. Was this the existence that the stars had in mind for her? Was this truly the path they urged her on?

At first the pain of loss had been great. Over time, however, it subsides and becomes knowledge that can be readily applied. The stars have always guided her well, and now at last it was that they bring her back to the place she had left for them. Najira does not expect it to be any different, but when she enters the land she knew well from the West, she tentatively looks for that familiar pull. It is not there, though she can recall the memory of the feeling. The returned wolf finds herself hoping, then, that Arkane is well and happy in his life and the path he walks. One day they would meet again and though she thought her soul would never reconnect with his own, the fates had paired them together for some reason. It could be that that reason could already be said and gone, but it did not feel to be so and the star led wolf always listened to her intuition.

Such was the reason that chocolate dipped paws found their way to the border of the moors, both scents upon the invisible boundary were ones she knew. She had been but a child the very last time she had been within the swamps, but she had heeded her mother well and remembered her lessons and anything offered to be passed down. Avery was the female, a wolf who was not demon but looked the part, and had always been loyal to the swampland pack. Aithne had been very fond of Avery; the half demon was just barely able to recall Vera telling her of the other wolves she had been born around. It seemed lessons were always to be considered a valuable thing, for it was all too obvious that Avery was now Alpha of Iromar. It was also all too obvious that the other scent belong to none other than Arkane. A softening came to her own features then, vivid blue sky blue eyes with their dark blue gradient wondering if it would be him that comes.

The stars, however, would be sending whomever it was that they would, and Najira would happily accept whoever it was that answered her. Even though she had been born to the bogs and marshes that lay out vast before her, and even though she belonged to the demons that had first inhabited the place, she is a wolf attuned well enough to not have waltzed across the border. Instead, it is there she takes her wait, petite chocolate paws finding a relaxing posture as she takes it upon herself to lie down. No harm will come to her this day, and it is something that is known to her and the stars, and so her lithe form is relaxed and content. Her voice does not call out, for the stars themselves have reached down to spread their tendrils where they may to bring along whatever soul they may grant her. Always did they know what was best, and today of all days was no different than any other.