Redhawk Caldera Life could have been different

Wraen was still figuring out, how traveling between one place and the other actually worked. For a living thing - all was pretty straightforward. You planned ahead and you walked. For a ghost? Not that simple. At times she could teleport at will. At times she simply happened to appear besides another ghost, very likely someone she had known before. At times neither worked and she found herself stuck in areas that she had once treaded, but formed no lasting memories off. To those, who walked by and through her, she was invisible. Not that being seen by them would make a great difference. They would not know, what she was asking for. 

Therefore in the long list of places and people Wraen wanted to find and meet, Brecheliant had been at the very top. It was a bit of a disappointment, when she could simply not sense them in any way. True - time that was very long for a wolf had passed, since she had walked among the pack wolves. Chances were that they too had disbanded and gone their separate ways. Maybe even passed away. And as much as Wraen would have wanted them to join her little pocket of paradise in the eternity, she knew by now that even your family members could choose a different place to stay.  

She waited for a call - a single thought, an idea of her. A name mentioned, in order for her to find them again. Finally it happened and she was here. This was not Broken Antler Fen, where they had settled initially. This was... Redhawk caldera. 

He'd grown quiet in the wake papa's death. Quieter, for he'd already been a child of little words. He didn't often stray far from his family, wide eyes watchful of Bronte and Ponyboy, trailing after them as though they might lay down and never wake up, too.

Today, though, he'd lost track of them both, and he wandered alone, like a forlorn stray that life had kicked too many times already. He stayed where the leaves could shelter him, but far enough from the shadows he could see if wicked eyes stared back at him from within.

But it wasn't wicked eyes that found him, nor anything that lurked in the shadows. In fact, the stranger seemed strangely familiar. Maybe that's what rooted him in place, claws clutching the earth, his voice a squeak, and a shock rippling down the length of him.

There it was. The call. The pull. Call, whatever you want - Wraen suddenly knew that someone had caught sight of her and she turned to face, who this was. A boy, clad in ashen-grey coat and the most beautiful blue eyes, reminding her of the cool and mysterious depths of the lakes in the area. His facial features were a combination of those of Teya and Bronco, yet put together, he had his own unique look. 

"Hello, little one," she greeted, coming closer with soundless footsteps and walking through a rock in her path. He was no more a little one than she was young and living, but as an older person and a ghost she was entitled to some liberties. "Don't be afraid of me. I am a ghost, who has come to visit the living for a while, but all my debts and businesses with this world have long been paid and dealt with," she smiled at him kindly. 

"I am the old hag of the hills Wraen, sister to a younger hag you may know by the name of Maia," she introduced herself. "And you are?"