Old friends

His travels were many, many. Many as he had been a nomad for the past few years now, and even though he was doing great there was something he was needing. Something missing in his life, and that was the sense of purpose, of usefulness. He wanted to be who he used to be many years ago. From a settled and hardworking pack wolf, he had become a nomadic shadow of who he was.

He found himself on the east of Boreas. Where he was looking for a place to pass the night, his two loyal companions weren't far. At least he had company. As he went, he smelled a pack scent nearby. It smelled familiar and slowly he approached but not crossing he was just investigating. The smell was from someone he met centuries ago. "Asla?" He asked himself. His eyes were calm and his posture confident, but deep inside his heart he was feeling a hint fo excitement.

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