Deepwood Weald father

Angel Oak had a healthy respect for the sea, but she felt no wariness as she approached. The beach was still a long way off, but they were close enough to hear the distant boom! of breaking waves and the persistent susurrus of sand and sea grass in the breeze. Gulls called overhead, and took flight as the two wolves emerged from the forest altogether to move briskly through the dry grass.

"This plateau is where I was born," she said, her voice quiet under the coastal chatter. "Rodyn led it — all my life, until we came here. There were two or three litters other than my own. We used to run between dens all together, begging from one set of parents until they chased us off, just to run to another."

They'd come to the old borders. There was no trace of them, now.

"I hope Moonglow will be like that, one day," she told him, her voice wistful. "I think, on that day, it'll truly be home."