Her name was Ifyla, she was at least sure of that. All facts beside that, she had no idea. She didn't know her history, her location, how she got there--none of it. She felt like a newborn just recently named, except she knew it had been a long time since she had been born. As the fogginess of her mind began to fade, she discovered another fact: her head hurt like hell. Groaning softly under her breath, the Ethiopian wolf put her shaking legs under her body and lifted herself up, studying her surroundings with careful goldenrod eyes.

She was in a field of pale, yellowish stalks of grass. It was high enough to reach her hackles, and she looked at it in distaste when she discovered it found all the best places to rub her pelt the wrong way. She yawned, then stretched herself to relieve the tension in her tingling limbs. The sun shown on her immaculately groomed rust-orange pelt, especially when she shook any debris from it. Snapping her jaw a few times simply to feel the click of her teeth as they collided, Ifyla eyed the blue sky above her.

The sky was a deep blue, fading slightly toward the horizon on all sides of her. The sun shone brightly, a beacon of yellowish-white blinding light. Averting her eyes from the ball of fire, Ifyla once again observed the field she was in. Gently, slopes rose and fell on occasion disrupting the otherwise monotonous field of tall grass. Deciding that she wanted to see what else her new location had to offer, the female broke into a quick trot, the grass parting around her as she traveled through the field in search of something, anything that might give her a clue as to who she was or where she was.