Quinn

"Fate is a strange, mysterious thing. Wolfkind has long wondered, if it's threads guide us, or it's our path that which determines it's turbulent flow. Unknowingly, our choices today may yet shape the future for our kin.

But perhaps you are what sheds light on the mesmerizing cruelty of it's reality. We expected your awakening, but nothing like what it was. Playful like any other pup, I always thought you'd be your father's living legacy. Just like your siblings, you grew in a loving den, and no expectation was ever placed upon you. Our pack had the strenght to fed us even through the harshest of winters, our hunters expertise was unmatched for these forests. You were to choose your own path, whatever that may have been.

Like it served tradition now, you were to find that path the day you were no longer a youngling, no longer a pup. A yearling, you were supposed to leave on your own, for the first time. To scout, to hunt or to care for playful pups, it was your choice to make. By the beaver's den, where your journey was to begin, not even our eldest expected that journey to bring such change.

I was tempted to stop you, once night had finally fallen. A mother would never let her pup go under a red, raging sky like there was that night. Everyone marvelled as the moon bled it's blessing on the land, but your father and I.

Something beyond our understanding enveloped you that night. Your fur, once golden like the sun, now tainted by the moon's fury. The intensity of your gaze was like staring into the depths of the abyss, and ancestors alone would know whatever it was it gave you insight of. Most that didn't recognize feared, but I knew well enough it was still you, when you spoke: 'Mother, I'm home'".