Coconut Grove you say that all your love is mine

Wraen would not refer to her language as English, knowing it by another name - the common tongue. There were very few wolves she had met in her life, who spoke anythings besides this. Asked to name any, the she-wolf would recall two. A black Dragedan guy, who had called her "blinka", whatever it meant. And a white wolf, who had been so enchanted with her to call her "veeri". The green one. The latter had sounded more as a compliment than the former. If there had been more encounters and exposure to a different culture, Wraen had no memory of it.

"There is something very magical about the ocean-side," Wraen agreed, looking over the steely-grey waters at the skyline. After much thinking she had come to a conclusion that she enjoyed the beach, because of the wide-open space. Here her mind could soar and wander freely. Here it could rest. It felt differently, when she was in the forest or the mountains. "Maybe it's because of the famous siren-song. It is told that they lure wanderers into the cold waters singing the most beautiful melodies. It is not the song in a traditional understanding, but it does something to your soul," she finished and looked away from the ocean to the stranger.

"I live a little south-ward in the forest. I am a leader of a small family pack there," she explained. "My name is Wraen. How should I call you?"