It shouldn't have been a surprise that war would come looking for her.

The world seemed thick with strife now. It had been in the sharp edge of that sinister howl, and spoke volumes in the ceaseless wheeling of the raven. The glossy birds were as wise as wolves, and for one to circle the valley over and over meant something. Something bad. It was her second winged pass, summoned by the ghastly howl, that made Iopah take notice. Her head lifted in the dead of night to listen and watch, remembering something that had never been forgotten.

Time would never dilute the blood that ran in a wolf's veins. Bred of a father who valued family above peace and born of a mother with an iron will, Iopah had known only a competitive world where battle meant survival. She was not a stranger to the way her hackles strained at these ominous signs. She remembered. After half a life-time in Relic Lore, three years of submission and pup-sitting, it was all still there.

Perhaps it was the current situation that made her weak to it. She'd never had so much at stake and there was no one's will to follow but her own. It was the perfect time for war to return to it's Barberi wolves and whisper something in the ear of their last descendant. Just as with her parents, it knew just what to say....

"They are coming for you."

Iopah twisted around sharply to stare down the mountain and into the twisted depths. Her mind had supplied "they" seamlessly; Iopah imagined a vine-strewn pack of wolves lead by a single green eye. Her lips pulled back in a defensive snarl and she slipped from her place to meet them head-on. Mountain-born instincts came back and she stole under the cover of night, drawn by a harmless sound and imaging the worst. Her growl intensified as she approached the would-be pursuer(s).