Bitterroot Valley All of me.

For @Maksim. Other tags for reference.    :)

To lose Grezig and Kavik had been awful, but the disappearance of their little son was far more devastating. The boy had been known for his disappearing acts, but a number of days had passed with no sign of him. He had surely perished in that time, likely carried away by a hawk or a fox, but there had to be something to suggest such misfortune. No matter the effort by Artyom and his wolves to locate @Alsek, each scout was returned without result.

He went out on his own that morning, off to where @Eights had last located a sniff of the youngster, but Artyom could find nothing to suggest that he'd been there. Earthen eyes scanned the meadow stretched far beyond him and frowned, his ears lowering at the acknowledgement of just how vast the world was.

Maksim once again had been drawn to water, the need to quench his thirst driving him to seek out another river which cut through a vast valley plain. He had noticed a pack scent nearby, but this time had chosen to avoid it, for now. The large male had not yet fully recovered from his encounter with the last river pack he had stumbled across, and Maksim had no intention of recieving another bite to the rump for growing too inquisitive. 

He gave a few sniffs to the borders as he passed by, but did not stop, and instead continued forwards to the river where he immediately lapped at the water. Satisfied, the tundra male cast his gaze about the valley grassland, curious to see if any ravens were circling around to indicate a fresh carcass he could scavange. To his disappointment, he saw no ravens, but he did spy a large white wolfish figure in the distance. In an instant Maksim's attention was on him, and he calmly walked up to the male, stopping at safe distance before announcing himself. 

"You look lost." He commented, noticing the male's frown. "There's a river back in that direction, if that's what you're looking for." He offered, shaking his muzzle towards the direction he had just travelled from.

Where are you? Artyom hoped fiercely that the boy had been found, that he was being cared for, even though the chances of his survival were slim. He stared ahead at the empty plain sprawled out before him, soft eyes scanning the sweeping grasses in hope of finding a small dark bundle come bounding his way. Perhaps if he called...

Before he could, a voice came from behind. Artyom snapped back to reality and swung his head to look over a gilded shoulder, his ears high atop his crown. Dark gaze found the figure of a stranger, and he traced his upper lip a little awkwardly. "Part of that river belongs to my pack," he responded, and offered a hint of smile in gratitude for the other's concern before it dissipated; "so I'm not lost, but someone else is. I don't suppose you've seen a cub on your travels?"

-stirs that drama pot-

Oh. Somehow in trying to avoid trouble and keep away from the river pack, Maksim had gone and stumbled into the very same pack's leader. The tundra wolf's head lifted and he straightened back his shoulders, suddenly feeling the need to look more healthy and capable than perhaps he actually was in that moment. He could defend himself this time, or so he kept telling himself. 

Maksim offered back his own smile out of politeness, though his own features soon crinkled with a frown when the other male asked about a stray pup. "No," He responded quickly with a shake of his head, before he paused, a single brow lifting awkwardly. "Though an old wolf came up to me recently and accused me of harming a pup. I didn't, just to be clear. He just mistook my own blood for someone elses, but, has this got something to do with that? Is someone is going around hurting pups?" Maksim asked, his ears pressing back against his head in concern, as he tried to put the pieces together.