Sleeping Dragon If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle

The Bandrona had no idea that Rosalyn was personally, even intimately, acquainted with her mother; she figured the question as merely polite conversation. Her amber eyes lifted from where they were studying the bed of quills to the Kru's face as she attempted to describe another of Wildfire's former pack mates. White. Sensitive. One wolf came to mind immediately and a soft smile arched the yearling's mouth.

"Pan? Pantaleimon?" she supplied, black tail stirring at the memory of her Papa Pan. She hadn't thought of him in a while but the feeling gathering in her breast was nothing but utmost fondness.