Emberwood i was born with a knife in one hand and a wound in the other

Menta was pleased to take on what she felt was her own personal mission, delivering this message to her dark dragoness of an alpha - as unimportant as it may be, she was forever striving to feel of use to her pack. And so it earned Heda a wide smile and a nod, the cream wolf's nonverbal promise that such a thing would be done. Doubtless Menta cared more about the follow through than the dark wolf before her.

Sleeping Dragon. So that was the title to the scents that she had smelled on the two female wolves, yet another title Menta had not heard of. She liked it - the dragon who slept, drago che dorme. It gave the sense that while the power slumbered, it could be awoken at any time - it made more sense to her than the Japanese Ryūjin did, although she had yet to discover that this name also translated into a reference about dragons.

 Last winter, she murmured, realizing now that she was not entirely sure when her own pack had been established. You were there at its conception? Menta asked, curious as ever with her prying and desire to learn about the history of all the packs in the land and hopeful that Heda would elaborate.