A ways out in the woods, you find a worn path and catch the scent of Shadow. Following it along you come to a small cave entrance, outside it sitting on a rock, his staff leaning in the crook of his arm, the female wolf sitting haunched beside him is Shadow. He holds a pipe in his hand, a tendril of smoke rising from it.
He looks up as you approach and nods, his existing hand makes a motion towards another rock across from him.
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It takes a thousand voices to tell a single story. —Native American saying. 
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