Bramblepoint Soundwaves of shimmering sands

"Exactly. That's were Osprey and Peregrine lived first, when they had left the Flightless Falcons," Wraen explained, as if she had sensed that to Phox their status as relatives was a bit ambiguous. How different would life had been, if her parents had been still around the time Phox and Towhee had been born. Imagine the family picnics, New Year celebrations, birthdays and - as it was not unsual in wolf kind that some died young - funerals too. But they had skipped all this, met each other later in life and become friends still. 

"Oh, wow - I heard about the flood from the flatland and coastal wolves, but I had no idea that it had hit you too," there was worry in Wraen's voice, relief too - they had survived it and were fine now. "I am glad to hear that you and the rest are doing well," she added. Then her sympathetic expression turned to a surprised one: "You got Eljay to move? Anywhere?" Change in the fellow must have been the most profound. He was like a dusty piano, covered by a cloth, standing forgotten in the corner of a ninth floor apartment and you wanted to get rid of it (read - you wanted Eljay to get out in the world), but the heaviness and sturdiness of it got in the way and time after time you decide to leave it on its own.

Now all of a sudden - by sheer luck, magic or god's good will - this piano had got a couple of legs, had lifted itself from it's cozy spot and rushed down the stairway. And Wraen felt as if she was the person, who had met that running piano in the corridor. "How did you do that? Tell me the secret, because I tried to move him for a year and he was very consistent in his refusal to do so."