Hoshor Plains Feral hearts

I wrote this while at work/on my phone, so italics are trigedasleng.

No matter the purpose of Wildfire's travel, and the agreement to return home instead, still left Gavriel following her charge as they moved from one territory to the next. It was all foreign to him, but the further they moved, the more everything started to look the same. The trees were near bare, plants stripped to the root, and the grass beneath them barely prickled stubs against their paws. Between that and running in dirt and rock, his pads were a little tender. Eventually, they came to a stop in open territory which seemed to offer a little refuge where the locusts don't have somewhere to land, but it is a futile attempt.

The large wolf, once led to water, drank until he thought his sides would swell. It quenches his thirst for the time being but after several minutes of panting, he feels dry once more and drops his muzzle back to the water and drink again.

The buzzing overhead is loud, but has slowed down enough that he doesn't have to strain to hear Wildfire speak.

"This isn't good," he responds, but before Wildfire has a chance to answer, he shoves himself forward between her and another wolf. She manages to stop before the collision, but Gavriel still braces for impact that never comes. The stranger's words catch his attention, and he cups them forward. Her face seems familiar, but a name is lost to him. He knows she doesn't come from Seageda, and his time with the Trikru had been limited until he set out again in search of their collective leader. Had Vercingetorix's message from heda reached them so quickly?

Gavriel isn't able to piece the timeline together in the matter of time he's allowed so instead, a gruff and loud question slips his tongue: "Who are you?"