Ghost Lion Crag i left my home still as a child

arcturus could not help but stiffen as wraen breezily brushed past, peering over the ledge with carefree abandon. it was hard for him, a wolf who knew the peril of heights, to let go of his defensiveness -- it had nothing to do with wraen, and everything to do with his innate mistrust of both wolves, and the gentleness of gravity.

once she sat down a distance away from the ledge that was disarming, arcturus' posture seemed to settle. he could not help but eyeball her discretely; she seemed to know where he came from, which set him at a disadvantage that he tried to ignore. "yes, from moonspear." he half-corrected, noticing he lacked the poetic manner wraen seemed to effuse with ease. she did not look very fiery, but he supposed that was a joke he was too serious to appreciate. "how do you know of my pack?"