Moonspear you can only remember what you want to forget

He had always loved the natural world for as long as he could remember. Sometimes when Tryphon was feeling particularly good - or had a very good day - he would dream of a sea of purple flowers the likes of which he'd never encountered in the wilds. As a babe this comforted him alongside Caiaphas and her raging sea; later, the pudgy cub had found comfort in various other plants and observations, until survival became key and he could no longer live a whimsical life. Here on the mountain things had become easier. Tryphon could indulge. So her offer made him smile large, at least until Olive asked her question.

Was he a mountain wolf? He had been so many things, and now perhaps.. That fit him best.
I guess so, he murmured after pausing to think. I grew up on the coast, but I've moved around a lot since cubhood... Jade Fern Grove - and the faces of Scimitar, Bazi, Kaskara - flashed in to his mind and out again. Then Saghani's face popped up and he mused, I even left the wilds entirely, once. His smile slipped and Tryphon looked distantly at the path ahead, not really seeing where they were going together, because he was struck by many thoughts of things he had endured. Incliment weather, spars with unhappy creatures, a period of silence - then a period of relearning the act of speech. Through most of it he had been alone, attuned to himself. Moonspear was meant to be a fresh start; he would reinvent himself here, put all that toil to good use.

Returning to the present, he turned the question back on Olive suddenly: Where do you come from?