Ankyra Sound song of four seasons

The frays of Blythe's scent had left Sequoia Coast, it seemed, although Charon still searched for the traces of it, hoping to catch a fresher trail. Some day he would find Blythe, and he would question her about all that she'd said. She had obviously been lying. This place he was at had not completely lost its scent, though it was evident it was no longer a pack. It had been once, though, and that's what captivated Charon's interest. He had never come to its borders, but he had smelled it, known not to go here. And now, just as that, it was just another destination for wolves taking a stroll along Sequoia Coast's diverse territories.

When he saw another wolf, Charon -- in full detective mode -- called out, "Hey, you!" He did not pay attention to the flutter of wings, since he wasn't hungry, although his shouting likely would chase off whatever birds were hiding somewhere. "What are you doing here? Do you know a white wolf with a black head?" He didn't use Blythe's name, because he considered it might've been a fake name -- nobody had ever heard of her anywhere, ever, after all -- and her description was striking enough for another wolf to remember. Charon closely watched the stranger's face, determined to find out if she had seen Blythe. His body remained neutral, though he seemed a bit on edge.