On the tail end of dusk, just a bit before full dark, the Wocha was maintaining his quiet vigil of the densite's vicinity by making a route around the short circuit he had carved out. Sitting still in such foreign lands felt horribly inappropriate, but forging some semblance of a patrol seemed almost just as improper--and above it all, he was just ready for this to be done. The generosity of the Redhawks wasn't going to disarm him, though.

Here and there since their arrival here, he joined a few other Drageda wolves to hunt and guard a bit.. and of course shadowed @Portia whenever there was something she needed to find, but in the end of it all, he found it was for the best that he keep an almost constant watch over this focal point here at the southeastern tip of their territory. They'd been lucky in that regard, and he was thankful it seemed to be away from the main points of interest for the residents of the Caldera to not interfere with them badly. If the situation were flipped, he knew if he was in their position, he would be on a vicious edge over this--rightfully enough.

Even if the circumstances were not looking to be the greatest so far, he was eager to get back on the road towards home. The south was foreign, nights were getting longer already, and he'd started to miss the smell of the seabreeze. He couldn't see them waiting around for much longer now, not with the cliffs missing a significant force upon them, and so far, Wildfire's health so far gone that she was probably lucky to be maintaining at all. But there was a chance that still could change; they hadn't left yet, even if he was painfully ready to go.

Someone approached, and it happened fast. Since he was pretty tense about it all anyway, Dio perked, head, hackles, and all but it shifted instantly from being just sheer alert to something far fonder when he saw it was Portia. He eased down with his very next breath. Of all wolves, even here tucked in a corner of someone else's claim, she certainly warranted it. After an appropriate sigh of relief, his tail wiggled slowly, and morale improved steadily as he helped to tuck himself closer to her. She made that easy enough, though, just beneath his chin, and (selfishly) was he ever glad that she was here too.

But, true, they had both come for a reason. She was the best healer they had, and of any he could name, and he was to help protect them all. Nevermind that back home, between them, they had their newly-minted branwoda son and sweet daughter waiting. He hoped neither had grated on Eske's patience in their absence. "Hey," he rumbled eventually, trying not to think about how things were back home and having snaked himself to press a few licks onto her cheek. "How're things..?" the wocha gestured with a flick of his snout over towards the den's direction, although he doubted anything was different from the last time he'd inquired. He was doing well to maintain a distance, and collecting his news this way through her most of the time, but there was only so much to be told about how badly Wildfire's condition was, and how her best bet now was time, and careful mending.