The days that had followed his run in with the red girl, the young emissary for the divine power of the world, had left him accompanied by moments of dazed fascination. He could still not believe someone of such great importance had thought him worthy enough to be graced by their presence. Though he knew he should not, he grew more and more curious of the other red wolves - he knew of at least one other - wishing that he could have had the pleasure to meet them all. But one was remarkable enough, and though he dared not think it too loudly he was already beginning to think of her as his own personal messenger, a physical representation that he was doing right by the religion he followed.
He longed very much to tell his mother of his findings and prayed that she might already be back and waiting with his grandfather when the older wolf called for a hunt. As his eager steps brought him within sight of those already gathered he was disappointed to note she was still absent, and resigned himself to tell her later. Likely his still-present family would have gladly listened to him, but in his mind Song was the most practiced, most knowledgeable, in regards to what they believed, and if anyone woul understand it would be her.
So quietly, harboring his secret close for the time being, the brown pup Requiem wandered over to join his brother - a courteous dip of his head given in recognition of his grandfather Dutiron - and eyed the welcomed stranger the boy addressed with open curiosity and a faint smile.
