Remember How It Was

The air was thick and warm. Pungent with decaying matter, moss, sludge. Resin loved places like this. They were comforting and brought back old memories of how things used to be. Iolaire and her brothers had been born in a place like this. All of that seemed like ages ago. Another life. Another time.

The singing of frogs and cicadas filled the air in a natural symphony. The old wolf closed her eye, absorbing the sound into her being. Had she been whole, she may very well have sung along. The bastard that took her children had also taken her voice, however. A bite to the throat as he tried to kill her had damaged her vocal cords. Once upon a time she had possessed a beautiful singing voice. She'd sung for traveling alphas and ambassadors in her homeland and had been prized for it. Never again though would that voice grace the world.

In the past she had been so much more. Since leaving her home pack, this had been the first time that she'd allowed herself to submit to the rule of another. She had nothing against Sirius, but his way of ruling was not her way of ruling. It could very well be time to be her own wolf again.

What sort of pack would she make though? Who would she draw to her? The time of warrior hood was beyond her. Perhaps now would be a time if healing. There were unfortunate in the world. Those that had no place. No skills. Perhaps she could bring them together. Offer teaching, protection, solace, healing. Healing not only of body, but of mind.

Inhaling deeply, the ash and onyx woman closed her lone, golden eye. She tilted her muzzle upward, allowing a spattering of moon light to fall across her face. It would be a difficult decision to leave Iolaire behind, but it was time for a change. She knew that her daughter was safe and she knew that Roan and Sirius wouldn't let any harm come to her. She wouldn't be far away. Perhaps she would speak to the ghost that had found her here. White Timber had served as her conscience before. Perhaps he would again.

Her voice was gone but the woman could still howl, though it was raspy and gritty. Muzzle already raised, she released one long, low note into the misty air. The creatures of the swamp slowed their orchestra, allowing her one moment alone in the moonlight before resuming their song.