we get a little restless

The great red Archangel had to smile at the words he’d caught from Domari as he’d made himself known. He’d often wondered at the standing stones shrouded in the thickest of the mists at the heart of the moor. His mother had once passed down the story from his grandmother, after she’d passed on, that the stones were made and put there by creatures long since passed on.

He grinned at Domari, nodding back and studying the fellow’s brother as he introduced him. Xanilov. He’d been thinking about that name since Domari had joined. Something about it was familiar and rang a bell. However, beyond these two, he’d never met someone who’d given that surname.

He listened attentively to Alarik’s explanation and grinned again. “What skills are you most familiar with, and where do you want to put your hardest work into learning and bettering them? And are you willing to be active, work hard, and participate with the pack?”

His eyes flicked to Domari. He’d liked what he’d seen in this fellow, and he hoped his brother would prove as likeable. Then the stone dropped in his mind, and he added, “You wouldn’t happen to be related to a Raisa Xanilov? She was the Queen of Ebony back when my grandmother was the leader of Valhalla.”

The memory struck warm and comfortable in his mind as he thought back to the stories his grandmother would tell himself and his sisters. About traveling to the East to meet with other packs, and who all she had encountered.Raisa had seemed, she’d said, like a good, strong Queen to her pack, with supportive members that had also presented themselves at the borders. These two carried similar masks to what his Grandmother had described.