Whitefish River Soldier, Poet, King

Ira came alone, as she always did. Her slender frame and royal gate easy to pick out upon the horizon from where she came. There was no wolf that compared to her in beauty and pose, and Greyback, being her father, reveled in it. She was his daughter.

"Am I not allowed to pay a visit my daughter?" he joked merrily, tail swishing at his hocks as a smile graced his old and greying mug. "I come to just say Hello and see the children, but why are you alone? Where are those two young men, the children?"