Stacia taps her own head to indicate where the new moon is carved into his helm.

"Most people go for the crescent or a full moon," she says. "Seeing a new moon is pretty novel, and it's my personal favorite phase."

The wolf from the trees pads over to the Stacia who belongs to this memory and nuzzles against her. Stacia buries her face in the wolf's ruff, and the wolf looks over at the three men and does...something. One of the men takes off his coat, balls it up, and lobs it in the direction of girl and wolf.