Herbalists' Cache The demon sat there waiting on her porch

His wandering had ceased some. Larkspur was home, though there was no hint nor hide of Pippin or Mordecai, and Tambourine had started to accept his mother's disappearance. It was hard seeing the boy growing up like this - his days that once had been full of fancy had dimmed with the realization it's not always perfect. Life isn't fair. His mother had vanished and Stark couldn't find her. His attempts had been slowed down to only occasional trickles out of the pack - now there was Amara and her puppies to deal with and maybe his bleeding heart should have stopped but he couldn't help it. 

He saw in her Octavia, alone and struggling, though Octavia hadn't quite been alone. The rest of the pack hadn't stood behind her properly and they'd never appreciated her for what she was while she was there. Now, her memory was tainted with whatever craze had swept her up. 

Stark had checked in on Amara before he left for the day, letting Banner and Rhodes know his plan to have someone around to keep on eye on Tambourine. That was his life. Check in with these guys, watch out for those guys, go go go - and the sable male was getting ran ragged. His pelt wasn't as shiny, and there was a constant state of exhaustion snapping at the Alpha's heels. Still, he kept going and doing because he didn't know what else to do with himself. 

He wasn't familiar with the Cache but just before he had decided if he would investigate or not a cry startled him. His breath hitched and his blue eyes got wide and before he could process any further he had called back, tearing into the territory, nose kept to the ground. He approximated where the call had rang out and then he let his nose take over when he was closer. When he finally saw her his breath left in a ragged, choked sob. "O-octavia," What had happened to her?