Who We Are Isn't How We Live

"It surely is. I always thought it would still be quite interesting even if it weren't a part of my family history I grew up hearing about from my first days in this world on." From the perspective of an outside wolf it had to be quite different from the usual proudly held family heritage story. "It is quite reassuring. Having something to fall back on has always seemed preferable to me," she mused. Better something than nothing. And better an ancestor taught about throughout her lineage than some other being she had no ties to.

She was glad to hear her explanation had been sufficient. Not being much of the scholarly or deeply religious type, Razi wasn't as eloquent as she wished she could be when telling the story. The story itself was etched quite thoroughly in the minds of every Abraxas from childhood, so she'd never forget it entirely even if she tried. Their father had been very good at educating the lot of them. "That sounds wonderful. I'll have to do some asking around sometime and see who among my kin is currently the most knowledgeable of our teachings. It's possible someone in the Risen Empire would be the one who could teach the most, but who knows. Much has happened in a short amount of time." Perhaps if Aranea kept up her interest and continued learning the Abraxas' ways as well as proving her healing prowess she would see herself rising the ranks one day. So far Razi liked her at least, she'd enjoy seeing the blue-eyed healer prosper here. They needed more wolves like that.

Yawning briefly and pausing to enjoy the way the sunlight was hitting her fur at the moment, Razi lifted her head in a prolonged stretch of her neck. "Hmm, you know," she muttered, thinking deeply for a moment, "The best time to try and learn more if you can't catch someone one-on-one might be at one of our festivals."