Dawnlark Plains pull me down

Tryphon had abandoned the peak, more or less, and had taken to sleeping among the rocks of Larksong Grotto; he didn't know why. He didn't know why he drifted back towards the packlands when he did, either. And as he neared the borderlands, the boy found the scent of smoke upon the wind. It wasn't something he had experienced before - so he lurked in among the trees in a state of curious indecision. A howl lifted through the smoke-filled air, and that prompted him to change his course. He was slow, cautious, confused. The air grew thick with darkness, and the yearling fled towards a safe environment. Back to the ice field, which had become an eyesore for him in the passing days.

He did not get too far before another howl finally rose up - this one summoning Scimitar, which meant it came from a Nova wolf - and Tryphon stopped running. He thought briefly upon calling out himself, to howl and seek out the stranger's voice, but instead he chose to be silent; his paws carried him towards the voice nonetheless, while the sky turned dark with night. As he headed back, he saw that there was light upon the horizon - and being naive, Tryphon believed it to be the sun. Except that it was far too late for the sun to be peeking over the horizon at all.

"What --" He started to ask, but the words caught in his throat along with the smoke. The boy swallowed a nervous lump and began to pace among the trees, searching for the wolf who had howled - or Scimitar, if he was around - only to come upon Kaskara and another, in a tired heap. The boy's posture lowered as soon as he spotted them; something was very wrong. What was going on?