I waited for her to show, the feeling growing only telling me further that she was near. My curiosity was peaked I could feel the demon grumble discontentedly, urging my body forward towards the river. I trot lightly on my black paws, russet head held high in confidence as I start seeking out her location. Whoever she is, it is probably best I get to know her. She is potentially my greatest weekness or my best bond. Perhaps more so than Apollinari or Viora. I doubt that, least for me. But the monster inside certainly seems to prefer her to either one of the Glorall females I have developed bonds with. Whatever the case was it was time for me to get to know her. I have very little recollection on what happened that day. As it is whenever the demon rears its head I don’t remember what happens, it’s a blank, no scents, sights, nothing coming to mind. The only reason this girl plagues me is because the demon wishes to see her and simply peeks my own interest by doing so.

I follow the rumbles of steadily growing contentment, moving forward until soon my white and poison streaked eyes found the small black and white form covered in the stench of Iromar. My nose wrinkles, I have no love for Demons even though my mother was one. It is probably that very fact is the reason I really do hold some discontentment in the thought that she is of Iromar. I know she is no demon though. Of that pelt? She is just some wolf taken in and liked by someone there luckily enough.

”Nice to finally meet you for myself.” I say my white flecked tail giving a flick eyes looking over the female. I am certain she remembers me, perhaps my words will confound her. But I do not remember her, not clearly anyway. Still though I figure it’s best to re-aquaint myself with her regardless what she remembers and what she doesn’t. I don’t know if she even knows my name, or if she gave me hers. I have no clue to what I was supposed to know and what I wasn’t. Either way, it was the first time for me to meet her and I will let her have a moment to question me, for if she is who I think she is, she hasn’t forgotten.