How welcoming the winter sun was in the forest, almost like the smile of your former lover who betrayed the tribe entrusted to him by his late father. No one knew where the young heir had disappeared to, and after hundreds of years no one cared about him

But today the forest felt different, unusually quiet and the scent was sweet. A few red tails flashed between the trees like a fire, carrying away the scent

"Well, well, who do I see? My beloved silver fox, you've come of age, my boy"

Parasarah was not welcome here, and he knew it. Who knows what his motives are?