Hushed Willows A crackpipe full of dreams

He'd not really taken the time to lend a proper ear to the first howl. His thoughts were coming in a scattered rush and the voice was not one he knew. It'd been easy to just keep going about his own private investigations with his nose low to the ground and eyes peeled. However, Tambourine's howl broke his concentration and the dark Ostrega whipped his head upward to listen.

He'd been trying to find a good trail on Stark, Banner, or really anyone else, but continually came up frustratingly empty-handed. It seemed that all at once, all had faded away to almost nothing. He was fringing the edges of their claim, sometimes pressing just beyond, and still had no leads to take him anywhere, or hints help him understand. The trails he'd had just.. left. No explanation, no disturbances suggested... Nothing.

He swung his muzzle back to howl his brief reply: Tamb. I was tracking for Stark. No sign. Be there soon.. When he didn't hear anyone else answer yet, he began to get real worried.

Silas sighed and pivoted, now pointing his nose towards where he thought to find the other Marauder. After a few slow, tired strides, he picked up a jog and just as promised, he'd get there soon enough.