Moonspear He's never going home

It was the wrong question to ask. The wolf—Charon, Wraen had called him—seemed taken aback by the mention of Floki, giving the yearling a shrewd and suspicious look. He gulped quietly. This is what you get for coming to a pack's borders, a voice chimed in the back of his mind. You just need to steer clear, buddy... He drew in a deep breath, trying not to feel utterly horrible about the aggrieved expression that crept onto Charon's face when he reported that no, he'd never found his friend. Tambourine knew that pain.

His pale eyes skipped to Wraen as she took a seat, soon joined by Bernard, who gave her ear a little lick. Tambourine tore his eyes away, looking now at Charon's feet as he rushed to apologize. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up a sensitive issue. I just—we met a long time ago. I was looking for my d—Stark and you were looking for—" He wasn't sure he dared say the name again, triggering Charon all over again. "I'm just gonna get out of your hair now," he added, shooting Wraen a regretful look now. "Sorry again." It was meant for all three of them, for the various ways he'd bungled this encounter.

He backpedaled, stumbling slightly on his maimed feet. Tambourine then spun and began moving swiftly away from the scene, too upset with himself to even chance a backward glance even as he thought remorsefully, Bye, Wraen...