Redtail Rise "Like love. Love and dying have been my life.”

Despite the feverish curiosity in his step, Sanguinus remained steadfast when the first glimpse of the youthful figure entered his line of sight. It appeared as if the ashen stripling was the harbinger of sorrow, his angular form taking wave after brutal wave of the frigid breeze as he descended to the mountain's base, eventually halting his steps upon noticing the crimson dappled champion standing not a far ways off. 

And where it had been the wretchedness of the young man's song to capture the wayfarer's attention, it was his coyotish appearance that got the man to stay. After all he'd never encountered a mixed blood before or, at least not to his knowledge he hadn't. They were more myth than anything else to northern stretches of the world, for the harsh tundras caused many to choose only those possessing the best stature for breeding and well, a coyote didn't exactly make that list.