Sawtooth Spire Snowdrift and Sadness

Magical, that was a good word to use to describe the snowy mountains. Mystical, tall beings that stood in silence as the wanderers beneath search for a new place to call home. Ainhoa had a tongue for poetry in Gracious' mind. After the exchange of names, Gracious felt her ears perk at the mention of Courtfall and Diaspora.

"Courtfall," she said politely, "however, our Undomiel passed before she could even think about a merge at the time. I wish the Diaspora wolves could have met her, she was as magical as these mountains." She frowned for a moment, thinking about how she missed her moon maiden. So gentle, so wisp-like -- it was a shame she became an angel too quickly.

"You must be from Diaspora, yes?" She didn't recognize her from the Court, so it was either Diaspora or outside lands from where this lady came from.