Moonstones and Flame

The great white male relaxed as she did, and she allowed her paws to cross neatly before her as she allowed herself to lower again, shifting to open her side more toward the heat of the lava and better face the man.

At his introduction, her ears perked with recognition, not only of his surname, but his first name. She dug through her memories, and struck upon a story her father had told her of his grandmother from the time she had led Valhalla, when she had made her first rounds of the packs that had ruled then, making her introductions. Was this man a relation to that particular story? Of an alphess in labor, and her great grandmother, a great healer, assisting in the labor? Or was he someone else?

She took in his features – in particular the gold markings on his face – as she hazarded, “I may have met one or two of your relatives. One was an elderly woman in Buffalo Knolls named Rhythm Destruction. The other is Shaye, the Alphess of Abaven. Would you happen to have an ancestress by the name of Song who led a pack in the east?”

Really, her curiosity refused to stay down and her features held a slight smile. She enjoyed history as much as her father did, and it was always a thrill to encounter connections to her great grandmother’s time.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think