Paw prints of my Ancestors

Like his grandmother before him Song entered the lands of Boreas alone. He was encouraged by his father's dying wish to go and seek out the land of his ancestors. The land of Bronze and Silent, of Song and Cherokee. This land was once theirs to travel, but as they were changed and gone so the land had changed too. Packs rose and fell, as did many of his unknown kin. His dam and sire had been rather private wolves, they had slipped from the lands years ago. Now he was going to return in their place. 

His massive form appeared on the shore of the mangroves that had born his mother so many years ago. His pale blue gaze took in the massive trees as his namesake had all those years ago. The waves lapped at his snowy white paws as the sun glinted of his golden eye stripes. Like he had been born within the groves he took to traveling the roots expertly, his lone form conquering old Ludicael lands. 

Bright white ears swiveled around as he searches for a sound that was not gurgling water. What sort of wolves remained here, he wondered. Who called this place home now? Song continued into the trees, feeling the deep history in his bones. The daylight concealed the magic of this place, and he knew he would have to linger until dark to really appreciate the hallowed grounds. 

He found a huge tree, it's roots extensive and guarding. Curiously the large Destruction would find his way onto the porch like formation to wait out the last few hours of daylight.