Sequoia Coast poptarts are ravioli

Though he may have seemed it in many ways, Artaax Drakru was by no means an idiot. Not much phased him, but that was not for lack of noticing the things that got reactions from others. He may never have outwardly acknowledged the tension in the other yearlings, or the sadness his sister masked with irritability, but that didn't mean he was not aware of it. Something had happened. He didn't feel any need to ask about it, but he was watchful for its manifestations in her and in the others.

It was for that reason that Artaax had gone so far from Drageda's borders that day. While he expected Blixen to cope with her sorrows through aggression and general bitchyness, he expected Furi to cope with hers by wandering way too far from home. Since that often resulted in her getting herself into trouble, Artaax had taken it upon himself to hunt her down when the number of days since her departure began to count too high for his liking.

When he found her, Artaax was gratified immediately both in that he'd tracked her down successfully and that she had clearly gotten herself into trouble. There was a limp in her step that told him all he needed to know. With an exasperated (and maybe.. relieved?) sigh, he picked up his pace into a canter across the cold, damp sand until he reached her. He stopped a few feet before her and looked wordlessly at her - a question quite obviously written upon his ever calm face.

What did you do now?