After many years a wander, the survivors of the great battle for Mythical Troia, having been driven from their birth shores, awake to a new horizon. Aeneas of House Lupus was tired. He escaped the temptations and dangers of the barbary shores once too many. He took to scouting the surrounding lands by himself years ago, but this time out, there was something different. The lands seemed to yield to his path as if by choice. Welcoming.
He crossed a creek leading to a larger river, clambered up the bank and stumbled upon a small clearing. In the center of the clearing sat a Wolf. The Wolf was feeding her young, a pair of small but very active young pups. The Wolf was unthreatened and one of the pups came up to Aeneas and boldly sniffed the weary leader. Aeneas, born in the sign of the Wolf felt what he had been looking for. A sense of home.
The people gathered around when he returned to the camp. Aeneas raised his hands for attention. "Rome", he bellowed, "our new home."