Sunset Valley You must push the world harder than it pushes back.

She had parted ways with Constantine over a week ago, and yet he still remained at the forefront of her mind. Durnehviir had crossed paths with several lone males throughout her life, charmers and assholes alike, but her fear of being close to others steeled her against forming any real relationships. The crimson beauty couldn't help but wonder what made this one an exception and how, in a moment, he'd managed to break down walls she'd spent years building.

A drizzle began just as Durnehviir crossed into the Sunset Valley, but the change in weather did not bother her. She pressed on in a casual stride, her tall ears high atop her lovely crown as pale gold eyes took in the new sights around her. A grim sky above promised more rainfall and ugly grey clouds prevented the sun from brightening the land.

Truthfully, she didn't know what brought her to this place. Durnehviir headed in no particular direction with the hope that she might find something to go on with, a clue with which she could truly begin her search for the missing Frostfurs. Swiftcurrent Creek had given her nothing, so the tawny she-wolf could only hope that luck might be on her side in the nearby territories.

Your sister’s a big girl, She can make it her own, Father had said, but Weetzie wasn’t so sure. Witchbaby was his littermate, the same age as him, but he often saw her as frivolous and irresponsible, and he feared that her overly social nature would get her into trouble. Moreover, Mother would not be consoled. He could see the worry in his mother’s face, and that was one of the few things that could stir his heart. He left home to follow after his sister, promising Mother that he would find Witchbaby and look out for her to the best of his ability. He knew when he left that he would probably never be able to return to his parents.

Finding his sister was proving to be more of a challenge than he had anticipated. For some distance, he noticed that Witch’s scent trail overlapped with that of Kinkajuu, which explained why Witch had run off. By now, he understood that his sister was in love with Kinkajuu, but romantic love was a concept he had long since given up trying to comprehend.

He was feeling more anxious and frustrated than usual because he had not caught scent of either his sister or their friend for several days, and the sky was threatening more rain which would once again wash their scents away, assuming they had ever even been in the area.

The small, gray coywolf gazed through the drizzle out into the valley and spotted a patch of red. He perked his ears and raised his head, then squinted to get a better look at the red patch. It was definitely canine. Could he really be so lucky? Could it be his sister? He broke out into a run, making no effort to mask his approach, his tail uncharacteristically wagging behind him. “Hey Witch! Wait up!” he called out.

Immediately after he called, he realized he had made a mistake. The wolf was definitely not his sister. Her coat was much smoother than his sister’s and was a patchwork of different colors rather than solid red. Even worse, he had made his presence known, and now he felt obliged to speak to the stranger. He stopped in his tracks. His tail drooped and his ears pulled back as he lowered his head. “My apologies, ma’am,” he said, his voice flat and even, showing no emotion in spite of his disappointment. “I did not intend to intrude. I mistook you for my sister.” He offered a friendly, albeit stiff and forced wag of his tail. He was ready to turn tail and run, but he thought that might be rude, so he stayed.

An unfamiliar voice called out from behind, and Durnehviir halted to blink curiously over a narrow shoulder. She quietly observed the other canine's approach, letting her muscles slacked at the sight of his swishing tail. By the time he caught up with her, however, his expression had changed and his mood appeared flattened, disappointment etched on his fine features.

She softened, acknowledging his apology with a smile. "No need to apologise," the crimson beauty said, her tail sweeping at her hocks, "you're not intruding." She should have been trying to find her mother and brothers, should have been asking for them at the nearby packs, but her thoughts were elsewhere. At that moment she felt rather guilty for letting her longing for Constantine take over her mission to piece together her past.

Weetzie had not seen a soul in what must have been several weeks, and it had been even longer since he had seen a full-blooded wolf other than his father. He appreciated that the wolf before him was not hostile, but it might have been easier for him if she were. It would’ve given him a reason to run away. He still considered running away, but he could hear his sister chiding him for being anti-social.

He raised his head and ears slightly and gave his tail a half-hearted wag as he said in his usual flat, emotionless voice, “I appreciate your understanding.” He fidgeted, entirely unsure of how to proceed, trying to think of what his sister would say, but he could never make sense of her behavior or speech. He finally asked, “Have you by any chance seen a red coywolf, about my size?” He wanted to say something like she has run off again, leaving me and Mother and Father to worry about her, but instead he just said, “She has gone missing. She would likely be with a larger, dark gray she-wolf. I suspect they would both be someplace heavily populated by wolves.” Though his voice showed no emotion, a hint of desperation might be seen in his eyes.