The familiars had said that the veil between the world of the living and those who were departed was growing thin and the chance that the living might connect with the dead had interested Memento Mori greatly. She had never been one to attempt channeling the dead before but, something about this year, in particular, had encouraged the she-wolf. Meme had told her companions, Jacques and Rein, that she was heading to Boreas, to a special place in particular to try and reach family members of hers. She had no idea if she’d be able to or if she might speak to her mother, father, or someone else, but perhaps it would be worth the attempt. Memento Mori knew exactly where she was heading. Her mother had spoken of the Weeping Woods, a land filled with willows, and the land where her grandfather had formed the pack of Dragoste. The pack had been born and fallen long before Memento Mori had been born. Meme drew in a breath as she walked through the lands, uncertain of what she was going to experience in those woods. Would she feel the pressure from her mother weighing down on her, her disapproval that Meme had gone to join a pack rather than create one of her own? That was a fear nagging at the back of Meme’s mind as she walked through the naturally autumn-touched lands around her. Her mother would always be her mother though, and Meme had regretted that she hadn’t spent more time with the woman before things happened as they had. The femme was doing her best to enjoy the walk on the way to the willows, at least the best she could. A part of her was questioning this decision, especially as she reached the end of the boundaries… She heaved a sigh. Was this even going to work? A flicker of doubt gnawed at the back of her skull as she padded along. Sure the familiars claimed the veil was thinning but… what if she tried calling for her kin and nothing happened? What if she was left alone? Memento Mori furrowed her brow. Maybe she should have brought one of the jackals with her. They would have been welcome right about now when her confidence was at its lowest and nothing but doubt and sadness tried to slip in over her heart. Memento Mori made her way further into the territory, toward one of the taller willows that had a patch of flowers growing near it. She could only assume that this was a grave of sorts, perhaps her grandfather’s grave. Meme drew in a breath, sitting beside the flowers before she closed her eyes. Now, what was it she had heard about trying to summon a spirit? Meditation? Calling out to them? She could feel worry fluttering in her heart. “I don’t know if anyone can hear me right now…” Memento Mori began. “But I am reaching out to the spirits of my kin, of the Lore and Adravendi lines… If you… If you can hear my voice, please reach out to me!” Meme drew in another breath. The only wolves she could think of that might even reach out were her mother, father, grandparents, or possibly one of her half-siblings from her mother’s first litter. Memento Mori kept her pale gaze closed, ears perked forward as she listened for any unusual sounds around her. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for, exactly… just something, anything, that seemed out of the normal she supposed. The she-wolf waiting, but only the sound of her own heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears. Memento Mori drew in a breath, starting to speak again, this time to a specific spirit. “Mom…? I don’t know if you’ll show up now, or if you would even want to but… I miss you. I miss you, and uncle Ulric… I wish we had been together when I was younger… more of a family. It seemed like your only drive was to get back at the Abraxas family for the fall of Dragoste, and for taking the life of my grandfather… it blinded you to anything else… you… you weren’t a good mom, you know. But I loved you all the same. You should have been more open with your brother, and we all could have done so much better…” Memento Mori’s breath had become shaky. “I’m sorry to say I won’t ever be taking on a pack. I won’t be holding that feud with the Abraxas until I die, either. That fight was not my fight, and I don’t think it was really your fight either… I don’t know if you’re really dead, or out there somewhere alive, but I want you to let go of what once was… I hope you can still be proud of me… but I have to live this life for myself, now, mom… I have to make the decisions I think are right, instead of living the path someone else laid out for me.” Meme fell quiet, feeling a cool wind wash over her. …was that her mother’s way of telling her she had heard Memento’s confession? --------------------------------- 863 Words. "Talk, 'Think.'

The cool feeling that Memento Mori felt was not her mother though it was the feeling of one of her kin. The grave she had visited was his own, and Ganta had been watching her from the moment that Memento Mori came into the weeping woods. The man’s pale gaze was like her own, and the fiery colors in her fur were a throwback to his own. This wolf was undoubtedly his granddaughter. He had listened to her words, how she attempted to reach her mother at the end, and though Ganta was dead he felt a heaviness in his chest. His movement by her, despite still possessing the mouse from when he had come into contact with his own father, caused a chill. “Memento Mori, I would assume? My daughter named you well.” He hopped up onto a root of the tree, waiting for the she-wolf to look in his direction and meet his own, ghostly gaze. “Your mother blamed the Abraxas… but were it not for my own, selfish pride, I might have lived longer alongside my family. It’s a good thing that you are taking your own path.” Ganta told her. “I think your mother would be proud of you.” "Talk," 'Think.'

Memento Mori opened her eyes and, to her surprise, a mouse was sitting on one of the roots of the willow tree she was under. There was something off about this mouse from the get-go, however. Its eyes. Eyes that were like her own. Memento Mori watched with fascination as he spoke, addressing her. It wasn’t until the mouse started to explain about his own death that she pieced together who this was. “Ganta?” She asked incredulously. She had seriously summoned her grandfather…? But why was he a mouse? Memento Mori lowered herself to the earth so that she was more on level with her grandfather now. “You’re… a mouse.” She stated simply. “But you answered my call. Is mom nearby too? Is she coming?” Memento Mori frowned deeply. “I… I’m afraid she wouldn’t be proud of me. I’m doing everything the opposite of what she would have wanted…” She flicked her ears back as a pang hit her heart. Philomena had been so dead set on her making a pack and following the life she had seen for her daughter… “I… I think what you might have wanted for Dragoste is similar to the Hallows…” She decided to change the subject. “I like it there. The wolves there are kind, like a family.” Meme lowered her gaze. “I want to do more for them… but I am unsure how I can do so.” She confessed. She wasn’t really fond of fighting, though she hadn’t minded going on that patrol with Ezra. But was that all she could offer the Hallows…? Surely there had to be something more than that, something more than being another member… "Talk, 'Think.'

There was a gentle question of if it was him and Ganta gave a nod. She knew of him, at least, even if she had never met him until now. The mouse remained quiet, giving Memento Mori the time she needed to process what he appeared as, also why he had answered the call. She asked about her mother too, and Ganta lowered his ears sadly. “Unfortunately, Meme, your mother won’t be coming. She uh… doesn’t see eye to eye with me anymore.” He told her. It hurt, but it was the simplest form of the truth. “I don’t think your mother would have been disappointed.” He told her gently. “Your mother was angry and resentful at the time… and she may have pushed wishes on you that did not come to pass, but you are still her daughter. I’m sure she’d love you all the same.” Ganta drew closer. “You look like you’re becoming a strong woman, Memento. You are living for yourself and for others. I know I can say I’m proud of that.” He offered her a small smile. Memento Mori had been trying so hard to find her path in life. “The Hallows, huh? It sounds like a good pack.” Ganta relaxed where he stood but kept his pale gaze on his granddaughter. “All I can say is be there when you are needed. Offer a helping paw to those who need it. Small acts like that are what builds a strong pack, you know.” He beamed up at her. “I have faith that you’ll find your place in the pack just fine. And if you need advice ever again, come to the willows again and sleep. I’ll be able to reach you in your dreams. Maybe your mom will, too.” He told the girl, trying to reassure her. "Talk," 'Think.'

Her grandfather was kind, doing what he could to reassure her. She didn’t know what he could have done that her mother would have blamed him for, or why in death they couldn’t be at peace, but Memento gave a small nod at this. It would be okay… it was probably for the better that she didn’t see her mother anyway. Even if she wouldn’t be disappointed in her Meme wasn’t sure that was now the time. Ganta had confirmed one thing though: Her mother was no longer part of this world. Her heart hurt knowing that, but what could she do, really? It wasn’t as if she could bring the woman back from the dead. Ganta’s kept speaking, telling her that he was proud of the life she had chosen, and Meme felt herself relax a little at this. At least someone didn’t seem to mind that she had taken a different path. His attention turned to the Hallows and Meme gave a firm nod, taking his advice to heart. It was a shame he had passed… he sounded like he had a lot of wisdom to share. “Thank you.” Her words were quiet, yet sincere. “I’ll remember your offer, and I’m sure I’ll make a trip back here someday.” She tipped her muzzle to him. “I should probably be going though. The Hallows are a bit of a journey from here. Be safe, grandpa Ganta. May you use this time you have back here for good things.” Offering the mouse a small smile she then turned on heel and started to make her trip back toward Auster. /End "Talk, 'Think.'