Bearclaw Valley One year later...

Despite what the wraith thought of as a terrible and fear inducing story, the swarthy female still smiled a kind smile at him and Icarus couldn't help but feel....strange. That she could still be so....nice and welcoming even though he'd just told her that he was a killer, a kinslayer, if you will, which was just about the worse crime someone could commit. Icarus knew if he was looking at himself from another wolf's persective, he would feel pain for them, but would definitely not be as welcoming, but guarded. He looked at her now, and a glint of admiration descended upon his blood filled orbs and he sighed softly, wondering if this place were full of wolves like her, or she was simply one of a kind. Ica settled on the latter. He hoped dearly that she would find what she wanted and have a good life, wolves like her deserved it.

Wolves like him? Not so much.

The ghost listened, pale ears pricked attentively as the girl spoke, giving him advice. She told him she was of a pack going by the name of Silvertip, and invited him to come visit her so they could hang out. But she also understood, saying she would not be offended if he did not wish to make friends with her, and for that, he was shocked. How could someone be so understanding? Most wolves, Ica knew, would push themselves on him, attempt to make friends with him without his consent, but she? She did no such thing. And in his eyes, that made her an angel. He looked at her with reverence in his eyes and Icarus shook his head, almost disbelievingly, "Dear god," he murmured, a smile on his lips, "has anyone ever told you you're an angel? Granted, one with dark fur, but an angel nonetheless." 

Icarus cared not that he appeared to look weird in the moment, because he had to express how sincerely grateful he was to have met her, and how he respected her so much. For a girl like her, she sure was more than she looked. "I will be honoured to be friends with you," Ica said, hesitance lacing his lilting voice, the word 'friend' coming uneasily off his tongue and his face contorted in confusion for a second before resuming it's normal impassive countenance. "Will you really do all that for me, Miss Valette?" And with that, came a rush of fear, that she too would abandon him. In his heart, Ica was still a child, yearning for someone to teach him the ways of the civilised world. The ghost shook those thoughts away, but they lingered at the edge of his conscious, probing for a way to invade him once more. 

Icarus was still weak, mentally. He was a ripe target for his own demons. And oh, oh, they were biding their time to attack...