Born in the alabaster peaks of mount Nei'mon, Metis does not remember her pack.
One night she lay in the snow, no milk of mother's love, no playing with a father's bristle fur.
She was alone.
Frost was the only blanket for her.
There, as her breathing grew labored, an Osprey perched on a winter's branch.
It looked at her with a stern eye, taking a moment to preen itself before looking down at the pup.
"Where is your pack child? It's not like a young wolf to be alone."
Metis looked up with half-lidded eyes— weak, her head fell back down to the snow.
The Osprey cocked her head to the side; pity in her eyes.
"Come with me child. I will take you under my wing. Make haste lest you'd prefer to be claimed by the frost."
The feathered spirit flew further into the mountains, beckoning the pup to follow in flight.
Metis, with her last bit of strength, picked herself up on shaky legs— trailing after the mysterious bird..