Shadowwyn Moor that blackness called night

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Raziel's silver crown dipped into a respectful nod as the brown furred female introduced herself as Citali. Citali. He would remember that name. Not for any specific reason other than the fact that she knew a lot of herbs and had taught him much; mostly it was because he found it useful to remember the names of lone wolves should the Fates find it fit to place them in his path once more; or, place him in their path. He liked making good first impressions but second impressions were just as useful.

"See you," he offered the female, saluting briefly before turning around and making his way back to Bearclaw Valley which was currently both his prison and his home. Gods know what tied him to that godforsaken land. Shaking his head to clear the disturbing thoughts, he trudged west, his stance and posture as regal as ever. Raziel might not lead these lone wolves, but acting the role of royalty was something that had always and forever be in him.