Shambler was a Feral Spirit, she was a healer and teacher to the one she saw as her Familiar, Worhal. If you asked Worhal the human, Shambler was the familiar, and it was he that did the teaching. The two were quite insufferable toward each other at times to the outsider looking in, but they shared a heart, and a soul, conjoined twins yet separate. It was a part of the binding and bonding ceremony they had undergone at early adolescence.

          "Worhal, you must go find a mate, as I must go and mate. I know it is not as easy for you as for those of the Feral Spirit world, but I must leave, you should seek a mate also whilst I am away." Shambler thought at him, for those of the Feral Spirit world had no external voice, only the true voice. This was what set them apart from others. their mindspeak. Few could hear the word of the spirit world and those that could were revered, especially by the Feral's.

          Worhal thought back, (second nature to him), at Shambler, "yes, go seek a mate to rut with, I shall remain here on guard. I know t is your nature that calls, my time for a mate will be like yours when it is time, I shall not rush the matter."

          Five years now since Shambler has heard the voice of Worhal. Five years of silence.Five!!! years of being alone, now the cause of his death have ravaged Shamblers home land again. He would find them, he would take the battle to them if he must.

          I need help, Shambler thought to himself. I can not do this alone. To many died in the last battle. The scars of that battle still weighed heavy on his soul, the loss of a voice was a very traumatic thing for any Feral Spirit, for Shambler it was devastating, he had left the community to live on the outskirts, to wallow in his loss, to send his voice seeking a new voice. None came. No voices heard. He heard a slight whisper once, but then nothing.

          The screams from his home broke through to him, the screams of pain, the burns the heat, all felt by Shambler. To long, to long since he had heard the comunal voice, to long he had wallowed in his loss. He snapped out of it.

          Shambler helped to heal the wounded in his home. he surveyed the swath of destruction through the middle of the village. The burned out husk of the homes, the pains of the people the losses of the people. To many pairings had been lost.

          Shambler approached the Queen, Ravina, he bowed low to her, "My queen, my apologies deepest from my heart and soul, I have failed you, my people, myself, and mostly the memory of my soul host Worhal. I have wallowed too long in my loss. Had I been here I may have been able to help prevent some of the loss." Shambler dropped to the ground in shame.

          "Shambler", Ravina the Queens voice soft and forgiving, "you have survived what many do not, you have lost your soul voice, you almost lost your self as most do. In one hundred years you are the first to survive the loss. It is not a thing we take lightly, the loss of our ability to communicate with others outside of our clan. Fewer and fewer have been able to make connections to others. Your loss, and all the losses of the last two days have been devastating to us" Ravina reached out to Shambler and lifted his head from the ground to look in to his eyes, so he would have to look into her eyes.

          "Look at me Shambler, look into my eyes, look into my heart and my soul, see the truth, know that we hold no malice toward you only deep love and trust, we know your pain we feel your pain, we feel your loss. Know the truth, there would have been nothing you could have done to help, that had you been here you may have been killed as so many other healers and voice talkers were." Ravina stared deeply into his eyes. "Go follow the trail back to where they came, find us help. I know you have a voice left in you, even though you doubt it now, it will return to you. Go find your voice, go find your familiar, bring us some help.