Herbalists' Cache Flew in from the city

Vagueity-vague about stuff, but this is backdated to, say the 20th?

Depending on what he was told, Mal had come this far for one of two reasons -- either because he thought maybe this would be where Cupid would be or because he wanted to make sure Cupid hadn't come this far and had actually gone home. It was the only place Mal knew of that had herbs and stuff so it made some sense but maybe not enough, because when he got there and started looking around, he didn't see a sign of him. Just a lot of wet plants.

It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to find Cupid, drag him home. That was like the bare minimum. If he figured out who the person or people it was who had attacked Liliana and Simmik, that'd be a nice bonus, but right now, he expected bare minimum.. And even that didn't seem likely. What was he going to say to Caerus when he came home without Cupid? Mal didn't want to have that conversation. Still, he'd be thorough and continue the search.

Whitebark Stream had disintegrated and while Meadow tried to keep tabs on her previous pack mates, they had begun to disperse among their own paths and so she forfeited any right to follow after them. Her path was healing—she had longed to learn, but her mentor had fallen to the wayside.

So she scoured the Herablist’s Cache, eyes keen to study what the land had to offer and burn it to memory for future reference. The rains made it difficult to see at times, but she made due. She had to.

When the damp scent of the air shifted, she peered upward, svelte form stilling as she noted another; a mottled wolf of whites, silvers and darker greys. Nervousness fluttered in her chest, and demurely she made to look away, wondering if she could simply merge back into the tall foliage and remain unseen.

He wasn't finding Cupid, but he was still keeping an eye out just in case. It was probably why when he caught a whiff of someone nearby, he paused and actually looked around -- he hadn't stumbled across their direct trail, but it was enough to make him think. Maybe they'd seen him? Or something. Hell. After his last encounter he wasn't super stoked by other people in general... But if they didn't know about the Saints, he should probably tell them, right? They sure made everything complicated.

Mal might have had the equivalent of the weight of the world on his mind, but when he called out, it at least sounded amiable, Hello? He'd looked the wrong way initially, eyes scanning for movement or sound just as his nose searched for where the scent was strongest. Even if she didn't move, he'd likely find her eventually, but randomly wandering over to a hidden person was probably impolite or something. More likely to get a nose chomped, at least.

wtf... how did I even miss this reply... I'm so sorry!

The voice of the seemingly corporeal form called out—masculine—she thought, in the sudden spike of her heart rate and the nervous flutter that overwhelmed her senses. She peered at the silhouette through the fog, chewing gently on the inside of her cheek as she considered her options.

“Hi?” She called back, ever so hesitantly, shifting nervously on the spot and her ears sliding back to her skull.

She debated—she took a tentative step as the fog drifted once more, causing his frame to drift in and out of sight for a moment. “I’m sorry—I’m not trying to sneak up on you.”

It happens sometimes, no prob!

Her call was enough for him to pinpoint where she was, ears tipping as they locked in on the sound, head following. Okay now he was getting a clearer idea of who it was. Took long enough. The figure in of the one who responded didn't seem threatening at all, which was good (and bad, if she didn't know what dangers were around). But with a wag of his tail he casually walked a bit closer so they weren't shouting at all and could have a normal conversation. 

And maybe she might have seen Cupid, anyway. Hey, it's ok, he said with a smile, happy to be able to confirm that she wasn't a Saints member as far as he could tell, are you a local around here? I'm trying to find where a friend of mine went. I think he was coming here. Or at least the name would kind of suggest it, y'know? And if she wasn't, then he'd best send her with a warning before scoping out the place himself. So far no sign though.

Her relief was likely evident as it swept over her—the thrumming of her heart stilling more as she shyly looked upon him. The gentle wave of his tail stirred her to relaxant at his words, she felt her own lips curl in a light smile, even if it didn’t fully reach her gaze.

“Not really, no,” she answered truthfully, arching a brow at the silver wolf. “But I’ve been traveling for a bit now. What does your friend look like?”

Damn. If she'd just randomly wandered through here, then Mal was pretty sure he wasn't gonna get the answers he wanted.. So, he'd say the warning after he was sure she hadn't run into Cupid. Hell, things would have been way easier if Mal had just figured out how to win Cupid over... Maybe he'd be more eager to stay at home.

So, he gave the best description he could, He's named Cupid. He'd a dark brownish black, but lighter underneath. Smaller than me, has a pretty distinctive mark on his forehead. Like uh -- he scratched some leaves away so he could reach a patch of dirt (or mud, probably), and drew a heart-shape as best as a wolf claw could. He was gonna be looking for herbs. Mal left out the fact Cupid was biologically female, but his brain was not operating too great right now, thanks, it would have been a good thing to point out. He might have been hurt, too -- I just ran into someone who decided he randomly hates my pack. He hadn't been able to sort it out.

She peered curiously at the drawing the male gave her--something she had never saw before but she lifted her gaze back to him, encouraging him to continue with the smallest nod and a soft smile. 

I haven't seen him... but if I do, I can let him know you're looking for him. She paused then, a light frown pressing to her features. Who hates your pack? You think they attacked your friend?

Thanks. Tell him Mal was looking for him. It was better than nothing. Get a few more friendly faces out there looking for him.. Maybe one would be able to get Cupid to come home. But then there was the attacker. Yeah, the guy admitted to it, like outright. I don't know why. Or where. Or anything else. His ears tipped back a moment there.

At least she could be warned, though, There's a pack around here called the Saints of the Dying Light. They've been causing a lot of trouble with other packs around here -- trespassing, kidnapping people, attacking people, all of that. They hadn't messed with my pack before this -- or at least not like.. Directly with viciousness I guess. I don't know where exactly they are though. There were too many questions. Mal's traveling was kind of dangerous, wasn't it? It hadn't been this way... He thought.