Cerulean Cape All that sound

It wasn’t quite an answer she expected, given the somber posture of the stranger. Still, it was something she could correlate her own feelings to—at least in a past life. Tribal had seemed forever ago—and Cutthroat Creek. The Ketzia that had once run with those wolves and led them further on was gone now—that part of her life contributing to molding who she was now.

Nothing had shaped her more than Diaspora. Than the dark shadow that had led it… and his brother in arms and the heated embrace of them both.

Nothing, however, had made her grow more than her children.

She hummed softly—not unkindly, as her eyes swept over him. “You chose not to follow them?” Or perhaps the opportunity had slipped past him. She did not judge either way. Instead, she swept her eyes to the roiling seas, the faintest smile tracing at her slender muzzle. “Perhaps our life is like the ocean. Always shifting—bending to forces we can’t control and yet still leaving our own mark.”

She shrugged, casting a flickering gaze back to him with the faintest amusement. “I’ve never been one for metaphors. But you will rise like the sea. You must.”