Northstar Vale the sand was shim'ring in the morning light

What came next jarred her more than anything, as it was so different from the norm but also vaguely familiar — as if she'd had this conversation before. Deja-vu washed over Ibis while she listened to the curious manner in which this person spoke; she did not consider them strange for any other reason, as she was not prejudiced in the manner that some wolves could be. As a small person herself she presumed this wolf was like her - born at a time of struggle maybe, or merely predisposed to being thin and wiry, but entirely wolf.

The name plucked at something deep in her memory, but she could not connect the word with the face, and neither could the stranger place Ibis. They might have met some time ago. Much had changed for Ibis, and the days of the Emberwood were long behind her now - a lifetime she'd surpassed.

I am Ibis, and this is the Reneian Empire. She answers softly, dipping her head.

A hunter is always welcome, Ibis comments. The mention of signs intrigues her, and again Maiira is like a ghost from her past, a fragment of Uaine Gorsedd revived and placed before her - fate's effort at reminding her of her brief triumph perhaps. I am sure your skills would be a blessing. Maybe you can find a way to end this awful weather for us? It has rained for so very long!

Ah, but Ibis catches herself. Does she still hold enough authority to welcome a stranger among them? She is no longer the Queen after all. As she contemplates this, she shakes out her damp scruff and settles against the tree trunk.