Ouroboros Spine I am that is

Kyron had sworn allegiance to the fledging pack of Neverwinter Forest and had spent several days there getting used to the environment, getting used to the land itself and adding his own scent markers to those of his packmates, establishing the soon-to-be claimed land. He would've been content to stay there and get to know his soon-to-be packmates if not for the never ending call that tugged him away. Wanderlust plagued all those of his bloodline and even he, the most in control of all his siblings had fallen prey to it when he left the kingdom. So, Kyron, knowing he would feel no rest until he moved, took a brief leave from the forest. He wouldn't go far, just to the neighbouring terrains, and then he would be back.

So the Persian prince, standing out brightly against the dark trees of the forest, took his leave from Neverwinter and began heading south. Truth to be told, the creature of the sand had no idea where he was going, but it felt good to just be exploring; it always felt good to be simply on the move. 

Alert as ever, Kyron sniffed the scent of another wolf long before he noted the sorry ball of gold against a rocky outcrop. Wariness came over the persian as he appraised the wolf from a distance, pausing in his pawsteps before his innate compassion took over and he approached cautiously, noting the shivers that plagued the stranger as well as the shallow breathing when he came closer. "Fool," Kyron muttered under his breath and shook his head before he settled beside the sorry creature, urging the fool to come closer and get warmer. He had heard the stranger's words about his 'gloriously honorable fall' and told him matter-of-factly now, "You're not going to get one if you die right now," in his gently lilting accent.