Hushed Willows [YULE] maybe just a half a drink more

Terrible but wonderful curiousity plagued his mind when it came to Ruenna - her own pages seemed slightly ajar, allowing him a sip of what words lay beneath, but there was still so much he didn't know (not like he could talk, he generally kept his book shut tight and locked, for his eyes only), and he longed to hear her speak. When her lips moved and gave him another taste, his silver ears twitched upon his crown and he listened intently.

The smoky traveller thought to himself in silence, running over the description in his head - packs appeared to have so much variety, each a unique collection of rules and traditions for the wolves to revel in; Soltero had barely scraped the surface with all that was out there, despite his countless suns and moons of trekking the world's nooks and crannies. A stab of something unknown pierced his gut, and he felt his own words brewing on the tip of his tongue - the Valento was not good at opening himself up, but he felt obligated to. Besides... if anyone was going to hear a single sentence from his tale, he wanted it to be Rue. "This is the first celebration i've been to... me and my mother spent our days travelling, and we never settled anywhere for too long. We were a team, we didn't like relying on anyone else." They had been a duo, had relied solely on each other for survival and company, leaning on each other's shoulders to raise their spirits and listening to their songs to accompany them in the darkest of nights.

He would never forget the day she passed. 

But he couldn't linger -- "I do like travelling, there are all sorts of strange things out there for us to discover. But it was tiring, too." Would that be enough to satiate her interest for the time being? Perhaps Soltero could be tempted to release more as time passed, but thus far that was the most he'd ever told anybody about his past, as little as it was.