Wapun Meadow casanova

Ah, the sea! From across it, somehow? The concept surprised Renoir greatly, and his pale brow raised, then creased with slight concern; no wolf could swim across the great divide without some sort of... Assistance. Holy or otherwise. Perhaps this shadow was a being of great power! He did not think to ask, for the other was quick to turn the conversation back upon him.

Ah, I am from da west, but that was too vague an answer, so he added, Far from dis place, my home was once Zanjheim, a small wayote -- ehm, he had forgotten briefly that this wolf was not of his own kind, and did not know his words. It felt as if he knew this man somehow; that they were destined to reunite here, like passing souls upon the wind. A very leetle pack, where my maman and papa are of high command. And his sister, of course. He dared not mention her - the mere thought of his parents stirred something strange in his chest, a bitterness he did not wish to entertain.

They had cast him out after all - on the whim of a rival pack, no less. Their own son! Ah, he felt the bitterness become something less trivial and more destructive already, and gave his head a shake, hoping to rid it of such foul thoughts. Ren breathed in the pungent scent of the flowers that peppered the ground at his paws, and focused upon them, briefly. We 'ave no fields like dis back 'ome.