Two Rivers Isle The lily of the valley

Rest did not come easily for Niamh, despite the harrowing journey that had sapped nearly every last bit of strength she'd had. After trudging through knee-deep mud for two days, she'd been well prepped for a nap but when her young daughter did not show up with the rest of the queue, her heart lurched. Saying very little to her other packmates who had arrived safely, Niamh curtly excused herself, marching briskly off into the bog again to rove and wander, howling for her little daughter @Alyx who'd somehow managed to be missed. 

Some of it likely had to do with the fog, and the fact that she had a twin; someone might've seen Quetzal twice and simply continued to assume that Alyx was still among their ranks as they made their way through the bog single file. It had been Niamh's job to lead, and she'd charged the others following her with keeping her girls safe and close and presently, she was fuming and angry with all her packmates. How could they have let her precious little princess slip away, unnoticed? 

Her heart began to fill with anguish as she made her away across one of the wicked rivers to Two Rivers Isle, and she continued to howl and sing out for her daughter- though she was completely consumed by exhaustion. On the banks of the rushing, grey river, she howled in desperation until her voice began to go hoarse.

Once again leaving @Neven tucked away safely out of the inclement weather, Piety went forth unremittingly — as if incapable of spending a moment at rest — and he hunted. The dark mountain wolf was hindered at first, by the foggy gloom blanketing the land, but he became foiled entirely when the howling started up. Surely no prey would linger in this area now. He felt annoyance rise up inside him like boiling water, and it took him a beat longer than usual to pay attention to context of the mournful sound that filled the skies.

It was sheer curiosity that drove him further instead of back to his accomplice, though he came to a stop at the swollen bank of a blustering river. Piety's hesitation was brief before crossing. He emerged on the other side drenched, and even more irked than before, but along with that was a determination to see this investigation through.

Through the mist he spotted a gold-coated she-wolf, desperately searching. He stood a ways back and called out: "who are you looking for?"

Tag's for reference.

Niamh's head jerked up as a voice rang in the air, and she whipped her head around to see who it was that had addressed her. She was tense, and the stranger's imposing size did little to soothe nerves frayed from exhaustion, but as a bold and arrogant creature, her immediate reaction was to size him up, and deem herself capable of taking him down if need be. He was a shadow against the rolling fog, but had at least kept his distance; she wasn't certain exactly how concerned he was with her business, but he cared enough at least to have asked. 

"My daughter." She said. She wondered if he would judge her, and the thought of that made her recoil slightly, and she lifted her head a bit defensively. She was a good mother- no, she was an excellent mother; her mate and packmates had let her down. She was not to blame. "She's four months old, slim; mostly black, but with blonde markings, like a wolverine. Orange eyes." She said, supplying what she believed to be enough physical details for her daughter to be recognizable right away. With a grunt, she thrust her muzzle forward, to study his expression and see if perhaps he showed any signs of recognition, silently begging the question of have you seen her?

No form of judgement passed over Piety’s expression or posture as the sunspear relayed her trouble to him. He could understand; Children were easy prey for any number of swift tragedies, and this particular mother did not seem like the neglectful type. At least, not while her frantic searching was in play. 

He shifted in the fog, but only to acknowledge her woes with a slight incline of his large head. At this distance, she would see his ears fall back apologetically, before they pressed forward once more in rapt attention. “I have not seen her,” he admitted, regret in his voice. “But, I will keep an eye out for her.” It was all he could offer, he thought. He did not feel as if there was much reason for him to get involved, but the towerdark wolf knew he would crave the same kindness, if it were him in this position instead. 

And, in the unlikely event he would be the one to find the missing cub, it promised him favor with a pack of potential allies.

“I am called Piety Montserrat,” he told the gilded she-wolf. “What is your daughter’s name?” he ventured to ask. “Who is it that she should be returned to?”

so terribly sorry for the wait, jess! if it's too outdated for you, we can wrap this thread up in another couple posts -- and i'd like to have them meet again, at firebirds, to confirm alyx has been found <3

All good! I'd be happy to  do a couple posts with this, and then fade 'er out, but should he pass by the Copse, she'll remember him :)

His face did not betray him in any other way than to express remorse for her lost child. So she suspected, then, that he was both an empathetic fellow- at least a little bit- and that he had not already found her daughter. He offered to keep an eye out, and she flicked an ear in his direction- but given the fact that she didn't know him, and couldn't exactly hold him to that offer, she figured she may as well move on and continue her search. She had no idea where Alyx was, nor did she know hos safe she was. She wouldn't waste time on a stranger even if he seemed somewhat civil. 

Still, she would give him the information he might need to find her. "Alyx, her name is Alyx Redhawk-Blackthorn. We live in the Copse, just along the river," She said, gesturing in the direction. "It's flooded now, so we relocated to the peak there," Again, another deft gesture, "And she was lost along the way. My pack's name is the Firebirds, I'm Niamh, one of its leaders." She said.

Her eagerness to resume this all-important hunt was not lost on Piety. The longshadow had no intentions of keeping her any longer than necessary, hopefully conveyed in the brevity of his questions, and he certainly was not about to fruitlessly offer to join her when their efforts would be better spent apart. Seeking strictly the need-to-know, Niamh did not disappoint, divulging the pertinent information as swiftly and succinctly as asked.

He nodded.

Alyx of the Firebirds. Return Address: the copse along the river. Property of Niamh.

“I will not keep you,” he replied, taking a few steps backward, to fade back into the fog from whence he came. Faintly, he added a common parting from his homeland, “May your hunt prosper.” A prayer, an edict, that her cause not be lost; spoken into existence.

With a nod, Niamh departed, grateful that Piety seemed to understand the urgency of her situation. She didn't want a tag-along, and didn't have the patience for a conversation. Along with being irritated with the fact that Alyx had gotten lost at all, she was in no mood to entertain another. Still, she did harbour some hope that at least, potentially, there was another wolf out there looking for Alyx who might bring her home should she be found.