I was born to Walks-the-Stars, a female Lupus Uktena, and Sunchaser, a Corvid Corax, as is the way in all such unions between bete, I inherited breed, species, and tribe from my mother. I was born a wolf pup, and I was the only child of that pairing. Only the darkness of the new moon shined down upon my birth, a void as complete as my lack of ethics. From birth my fur has been a mongrel grey, across my entire body, except for a patch of black fur that lies upon my right shoulder, in the shape of a wave.

I spent my first years living with my parents amongst my mother's people on the Baja Peninsula. I'm told that I was always a bright pup, so my parents never had any doubt that I would change. Yet I lingered as a mere pup far longer than normal before the change came to me.

When I was but a half grown wolf my parents moved, with me in tow, to the land of my father's human tribe, near Seattle. We lived beneath the rain, and I spent many days playing in gentle showers. It was just past my fourth birthday when the change finally came. Unlike the first changes I have heard other describe, mine was not sparked by rage. No anger lurks within my heart, when I look into the depths of my soul I find only a vast well of mirth at what has been wrought upon this world. No, there was no powerful emotion at all in my first change, it was a far more subtle thing. I was pacing through the rain, returning with a rabbit in my mouth, a gift for my mother. It simply occurred to me that it would be so much easier to carry the rabbit if only I had hands, hand like mom has. I found then that I had hands, hands covered in smooth, dark skin, the same color as that of my parents.

I stood naked in the rain, rabbit still clenched in my teeth. I stretched my hands out, and looked them over. I looked down to observe myself, and found my whole body transformed, covered in the same smooth skin, except for my right shoulder, where a birthmark the color of eternal night seemed to lurk.

I reached my hand to my mouth, and removed the rabbit, its blood trickling warmly down my throat. I walked home ever so slowly, relishing the sensation of the mud, lichen, and grass as each slipped between my toes.

To say that my parents were overjoyed would be an understatement. We took a family "vacation" to my mother's sept, where I was introduced to the elders, and my training as an Uktena Ragabash finally began. My wit was, I must confess, never quite so sharp as that of some of the sept's other new moons; but my felonious hands and endless fascination with all things magical or shiny seemed always to get me into enough trouble to keep up with the others.

Strangely, although I don't have my father's wings, I learned only shortly after my first change to channel the spirit of Raven, and soar through the clouds in my father's wake.

In my tenth year, we were forced to flee the sept, my father took me away to safety, while my mother battled the wyrm-beast that was attacking the caern. She escaped with her, life though only barely, and not with her tongue. She met us at a corax caern hidden deep in the Pacific Northwest.

My mother could no longer speak of the things she had seen when the old sept fell, and even had her tongue not been taken, she never would have said a word. My father and I chose to join her in silence, vowing before Helios to never speak again so long as mother is silent.

My mother lies still in rest at the caern, and I have come south in search of others, striking out on my own finally. My tongue is silent, my paws are light, my ethics dark, and now my fortunes are my own.