The wolf was passive, standing amidst the excitement of his family, but unable to hear the words in their mind. The silence had been shocking, lonely at first, and even Comadre had been affected heavily at first. With resilient souls, the clan plunged through the Endless Night easily, filling the gap of sunlight with close companionship. Osiris was reminded of the time he had been awoken by Kaya, just after the cataclysm of Isilme. Within the mountains, injured but more certainly alone, the great hybrid had been saved by the serious-faced lady and her welcoming family.
The same family they shared now, minus a few faces that Osiris recalled in quiet, stoic pain.

It was delightful to see Mukki taking so well to Sitka, for the poor boy could never play with Pahana and Kaya often grew tired of his antics. Immature, wirey, ecstatic. Mukki is full of life that they others do not always appreciate. The expression chiseled in the face of the hybrid softens slightly as he watches the pair of hounds meet, the small wolf rolling to his feet to chase after the hellhound. Strangely still but gentle, turning back into a face that was overcome by shadows hiding his secrets, emotions, and thoughts. It is the distraction of Mukki that allows for Osiris to miss the shifting of emotions on Cirrus's own countenance, seeing just the small widening of her eyes lessen as his focus returns to her stormy appearance once more.

Maybe she was surprised by the laugh, as it is more of a growling bark than anything equine, but that is unavoidable, given his makeup, is it not? Osiris could soften his words, his biting sarcasm, and even his skepticism of others, but he could never change what he truly was. This, my friends, is the cage that the wolf is born into. It is also the cage he will die in, if he does not learn how to look past what he is and learn who is inside. Comadre already knows.

The hybrid takes a nod to her first statement. The normally chilling breath of winter was made even more painful in the absence of light, and even he, the one born into the shadows of life, found himself seeking the warmth of light upon his fur once more. However, he counted himself lucky that he at least had family to keep him warm. This girl, Cirrus, what did she have, aside from Sitka? He wondered vaguely about what awaited her in the south, if familiar faces would greet her with warm smiles. Would adoring eyes feel like the sun upon you? He wondered, and then she laughed.

Delighted with the slender black dragon cooing like an idiot.
Ah, well, some things never change.

"It is easy to miss the importance of things thought permanent," he says in agreement, voice musing vaguely, as though he were remembering something once lost. In his mind, the face of a certain dapple grey appears, flickering behind his eyelids, which blink swiftly to turn her away. She was never coming back. "What is the expression? You never know what you have until it is gone." He smiles, nearly a melancholy sight despite the normal associations with such.

"To have learned such a lesson now, I sympathize with you."