For quite some time I laid like that, feeling the cool stone at my belly warming from the heat of my body. I breathed my home in and out, tasting Spirane on my tongue. Scents washed through my nose, each breath filtering something through that was ever so faintly different than the previous. They were the tiniest nuances, ones that perhaps only a wolf born to the mountains and so attuned to their spirit would notice. Being mountainborn was part of me, a title that my mother had coined to represent our heritage. But it wasn't just those who were direct descendants of Boneclaw and Thunderbone, like me; it encompassed anyone who was born with the spirit of the mountains coursing through their veins. But it certainly did hold a special something for my family.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed when one of my ears tilted back to catch the sounds of another wolf's presence. My nostrils flared, catching his scent as it wafted to me prior to his arrival. Eldrax, my nephew. I turned my head towards him as he barked, looking over my shoulder with a welcoming smile. "Eldrax, it's good to see you. I'm fine, thank you. You're welcome to join me, I'd never turn away the company of family." My tone was honest and inviting, and I motioned to the open space beside me if he wanted to sit for a moment with me. "How have you been?" I asked. I knew well of the troubles that had befallen his family when Melee had become so sick that they thought she might die. I hadn't seen much of her since her recovery, nor their parents. Eldrax was the most present member of his family, and I wondered if that was affecting him in some way. And if it was, what could I do to help?