Cellen awoke to being nestled in brittle lieaves inside an ancient pine, once hollowed by fire. Age and weather had softened the sharp smell of charred timber. Resin seeped through the cracked wood and mixed its smell with the fragrance of mulch and sweet grass.

He blinked sleepily, rolled over and rested his chin on the bark sill at the entrance. He was still lightheaded, although the sensation wasn't as unpleasant as it had been. Burying himself into the leaves, he watched the autumn sun rise. The prevailing pain that bombarded his head the night before had dispersed, leaving him rather comfortably warm and lazy. Yet something worried at his mind, trying to catch his attention. He sensed that it was important or had been. Odd that he couldn't remember what it was. Cellen sighed, feeling the cold wind on his nose in contrast to the encompassed heat wrapped about his body.

Reisx lay curled up near him while her scent permeated their temporary den. The sunlight fell on her coat, turning it from a shadowed dusk to a burnished tapestry with hints of blue. Cellen rolled over next to her and leaned over her, fascinated by the pattern of hair that extended from her back and up toward her forelegs. Each hair was gleaming and haloed; so perfectly placed in the pattern that flowed down her legs until it ended in a whorl on the back of her foot.

Her smell hypnotized him; drew her closer. A wildly dark scent, tinged with the sweetness of blossoming fruit. A scent so poingnent that it sent shockwaves down from his spine to the tip of his tail. She rolled over onto her back, the motion sending waves of her scent towards Cellen. They rocked him, sweeping over and through him until he could barely stand. Reisx had never smelled quite like this before. Had her odor changed? No, it was he who had changed. He had become stronger, so much more intense that he could scarcely believe it. Time had passed and with it he had become molded into a more intuitive, perceptive, and unbridled beast.

Although Cellen rejoiced in the return of stability to his body and mind, rooting himsel back in the foundation of becoming feral, a lingering regret was born against his rejuvination. Yet the detached remose could not cease the onslaught of new sensations, new thoughts and feelings from rising. Having experienced the taste of emancipation, Cellen was recognizing that which he sought never to lose again. There was the slightest chance that, perhaps, there could come a time where he would willingly welcome the sliver of benefits that came with being domesticated yet it seemed more or less a willingness of a waking dream that swung him between madness and mayhem.

The past now fet like another lifetime ago-- a lifetime which had belonged to someone else, not the Mokai he was now. And now? He couldn't even begin to explain who, even what, he was. He turned his gaze to Reisx and tried to shake free from the feelings that were taking root in him. There was something about her that made him want to bear his soul to her. He laid with Reisx, watching as she shifted into the crook oc his paw.

For now, sleep eluded him. He looked down at her face and nuzzled the hair that swayed into her face from her mane-like hair that ran along her neck. There was more than solace which his mate filled him with. There was an indefinable oneness that made his burdens seem like so much chaff in the wind. Amongst the chaff which lingered about as it tossed around its mind, a faint remembrance reawakened. It was a song--

Life's a journey filled with pain, teaching loss in snow and rain.

Death is sure th mortal's way, change a law of night and day.

Yet the heart must never die, raise your voice and break the sky.

Like the wolf on mountain clear, howl it out though bitter tear.

Everything that lives and dies, longs to find the real prize.

Longs to know what made this place, longs to touch a gentler face.

Fear its nature in the dark, loves the song of riding lark.

Turns to darkness in its pain, shames to feel the sun again.

Knows the finest place of all, proud in sunlight, standing tall.

Search the mountains and the sea, for the truest way to be.

Free the soul with your song, teach with love the right from wrong.

Teach then what the poet knows, that in loving all things grow.

But that human hearts can make chains that every thing would break.

Feel as well, in brook and stream, how the earth itself can dream.

And that power that passes through, greater than the works to do.

Let it hold you safe and strong, like a hand with tender bond.

Breathe a breath so deep and calm, that no thing may do you harm.

Lest the harm that's done to you, comes like sorrow in the dew.

Or a canker in the earth, robs this lovely life of worth.

Sing this song from heaven sent, thank the world as you lament.


Cellen felt the tears from to his ocher eyes, as he recalled that song that he pondered upon as the lullaby of his childhood and the principles of which he adhered to. Since his puppyhood, the lyrics from the song had always filtered through his mind with such vigor and vim and, lately, it has felt few and far between for when its words would ring true within the confines of his mind. It was its own uniquely sweet reminder of his family, wherever they might be--living or laid to rest. It was a feral's song although its meaning, the core of its foundation, applied to both wild and domestic; strung within the song was a sweetness which only invigorated lifes true meaning and ones individual purpose.

Alongside his love, Cellen had already established his purpose; together they were to create a family, a bloodline, to call the wild their home. Here, along with Ualani and Rylis, they were to crete a new plight and kindle their unbridled spirits together to ignite a unity between them---bringing others to know what they knew.

Life was to be lived beyond the walls as it was meant to be lived.

And the song which they were to sing would stir wakes within the wild and at the heart of Huntingdon.