The Sentinels my heartbeat could tell you it's urgent

There was a call for his father and his right hand – but Constantine was never far from the duties that called to him, and so the aspiring Mercenary quickened his pace, despite the fatigue and ache of his malnourished form. The foliage of the lands had only now begun to recover, and while it spurned hope in the heart of the young wolf, he could only wonder if it had come too late and they were doomed – but he would not turn from his family.
 
The caller had been an agouti wolf – one that pulled at familiarity, though the dark Mayfair could not place it. He pulled up alongside his younger sister, who now, almost at six months, was growing in to the fair wolf she would be. His ear would flicker in the direction of her soothing voice, and Constantine would not make an attempt to interrupt – instead, his form would linger protectively at her side, his eyes studying the rogue before them with mild intrigue.