Lótë hadn't meant to track him. The blackbird was gradually becoming embedded in their family, in their village. Her children had returned to the hearth, for it was clear that Makan meant them no ill will. 

Regardless, the mother had frequented the forest to the east of their domain of late -- at first drawn by curiosity and the thrill of exploring the ruins of its former inhabitants. Recently, with the thoughts circulating her mind, the Naturalist tended towards inclinations of rebuilding what had laid dormant for so long. There were a great many children in the village, by the next spring it would grow rather crowded. 

While it was true that children were usualy the members to disperse, Murre had given her the inspiration to grow their family anew by settling another village in the shadows of the Spine. It was something she had yet to share with @Kukutux, not yet certain she could leave. Not with @Mojag and her stepchildren newly born. 

It was for this reason, and an inkling of concern to find Makan's scent trailing from the borders, that Lótë followed the healing shadow to the woodland that had become her hideaway. 

Through the pines, she trotted in search of Makan -- seeking out his company for a hunt perhaps -- releasing a soft howl when his perfume thickened among the boughs. 

Lótë had learned he communicated best by body language and tried to keep her verbosity to a minimum, lest she overwhelm the sooty he-wolf. 

She welcomed Makan's presence with a kind smile, allowing him to dip close and attempt to placate her -- though there was no anger to soothe. She bowed playfully to make herself even smaller, her jaw nuzzling against his dark ears to reassure him. 

"You are no captive," the doe wisped to him as she pulled away, straightening and casting a glance about them. 

"I like this place, I come here often. Would you like to explore it with me? Maybe hunt something for the mothers who have little ones?" Some speech simply couldn't be avoided. She smiled sheepishly, apologetic. 

If Lótë had been privy to Makan's inner thoughts, she'd have found it slightly amusing -- having been marked with the totem of the bear and being a mother herself, full of teeth and ready to bite where it came to her cubs. 

The doe stilled, for once as cautious as he when the length of him curved along the slim shape of her. Optics of spring growth watched the blackbird closely as he returned to her side, wonderingly. 

Shaking the moment off, Lótë nipped at his cheek playfully -- her movements slow and gentle, uncertain if he had ever played in his life even as a child. 

She grinned and darted into the woods, ears splaying to make sure she hadn't left him behind. 

 

Lótë slowed after a time, letting Makan catch up as she realized he'd fallen behind -- feeling a stab of guilt. He was likely too tired to run in such a manner. The wind shifted at that moment, bringing with it an unfamiliar scent. That of another, growing steadily stronger. 

Then she saw him -- a distorted silhouette of Makan, yet not. He was dark and had brilliant blue eyes of a similar hue but the shadow racing towards her bore the face of a stranger. Lótë's hackles rose, lip peeling back in a panicked snarl but the pursuer was larger than she and likely stronger. The cloudberry didn't wait for the man to catch up with her, nor did she brace to meet him in violence. 

Instead the dove burst into flight, wheeling and taking off with a cry of warning for Makan who was surely not far from them -- intending to circle back around if she could not flee from the stranger. If she could not lead the attacker away, perhaps the two of them would stand a better chance against him.  

But this was all betting on the hope that Makan would not flee in fear.