Dragoncrest Cliffs i saw the bottom of the ocean; my pores would pour my soul down there

Raimo had lingered on the outskirts of the village for a while, uncertain of his place among the common rabble. They all seemed so polar in opposition to one another; one leader young, the other old. Youth pervaded the ranks and as such, Raimo did not feel a strong connection with them.

He was often left to his own devices to feed himself or do quick patrols, which he enjoyed for the most part. A part of him wanted to leave this place; he considered it as soon as he'd returned from his last jaunt abroad, only he couldn't quite take that leap.

As he trailed along the upper reaches of the claim - doing his best to seek shelter as a growing humidity baked the cliff face - he heard the call from below. There could only be one person coming to call for him; unfortunately Raimo had already forgotten the name of the wolf, although the memory of their time together kept him company on many hot nights.

He almost did not heed that call. Having given his word, Raimo eventually turned along a descending path and began to make his way — appearing from over the hill in time to see that the stranger was not alone, but the ruddy shape of Sapphique's elder leader sat there too.

It would take another few minutes for him to reach them both; in that time, who knows what could be said.