Hideaway Strath and there's no remedy for memory

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Old soul. That was something she had not been told but in it's same vein, she didn't need to hear it. She just understood that she did not see things the way most people did. She saw, to herself, something deeper - and maybe that was because she struggled to put proper roots down. Palisander was not a mistake, and she will vehemently state that, but he was unexpected. Few things were unexpected. He was. She drew in a breath and let it out with a smile, green eyes drifting across the woman she stands near and for a moment she comes to a stop. "Thank you." It's quiet, but it's true - and the gratitude in her voice promises that she understands what is said and its magnitude. 

"That is the crux of it - gods and goddesses that were made up and dreamed up by wolves who wished to be gods themselves.." Of course there were too many stories of similar higher powers for Hemlock to believe there is no promise to them. She just can't give them too long of her thoughts. "There can be things learned, of course, from those who aren't completely stuck with their heads in the sands." Hemlock mused. "I think that is the place I view religion. It can be learned from. But like all things - it cannot be the only source of knowledge. I could know every plan in the world but what good is that if I do not know what to do with them?" She could prattle off useless information but the meat of what she was stood with was application. 

"Was it all focused on healing in your pack?" They had different respective paths in Awenasa, and she respected that. Not all the others would split their focuses - some packs were far more militant in their thought process. 

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