Quote:The push of the wind was strong, curling against the bottom of ebony paws and rising against the bulk of his fur, pushing, edging and encouraging the old wolf on. The sun was dipping long against the canvas of colours that made up the late afternoon sky as the ceaseless urging of the wind drove him up the rough pathway. Higher and higher he rose until he felt he must look like a dark silhouette against the auburn colours of the sky. It wasn't long before he stood at the cliff's edge, looking out at the great expanse of land laid out never-ending before him. His heart clenched inside him and his eyes grew mistiness with his inner sadness. It had been a cliff much like this one, in the fading of the day that he had come across Illaria for the very first time. He couldn't seem to fight off the memories that often threatened to envelop him as he sat by the cliffs edge and listened to the soothing motions of the wind that stroked soothingly against his coat.
Kastiel was old now, he had lived the prime of his live in different lands, had made his life in them and now they where lost to him. With age it was difficult to image starting a new one here in these foreign lands and clung onto the commitment he had once made when he was but a pup starting out in the world. The one where he would travel, walk the lands and speak of Mother Nature to the wolves that roamed them. He had made a name for himself and spread her word to the wolves of the Strangerian community, and most of all he had spoken them from his heart to the wolf who owned it. He could never forget her, nor the things he had never fully accomplished, nor his children that he could not find and teach. He would spend a long time looking out at the darkening lands and bringing forth the will to start everything over once more, to begin again despite the life he had already lived and lost.