Blackfeather Woods Wicked sitar rift

Despite the betrayal of the false king, she had never believed Kove to simply disappear. They were not binding, no restraints were put on each other because of the simple fact they were mates. Kove did as he pleased, without her consultation, and she preferred it that way for it was not her job to reign in his freedom. So, when he had appeared to vanish from their home in the midst of Burkes escape, she held no fear for what he might have done. In any case, she knew Kove held no affection for Burke, and would never betray the Brotherhood following a failure. How Damien felt about his disappearance, she did not know, but she assured herself Koves standing within the pack would not be affected over a suspicion; no matter how wary it seemed.

As his call arose, notifying the pack he was indeed alive, she traveled with no uncertainty to meet the call. Yet, nearing her lover, a foreign scent was detected; her senses flared with caution. But as she approached, noticing the small dark patch between the pale forelimbs of her mate, only confusion etched her features. Her pace slowed, head dipping in curiosity as she made eye level with the tiny bundle. It held no scent of a pack, but of blood and fatigue. And it was.. wet? Softly, she padded forward, touching her nose with the small forehead of the girl. It was too small to be traveling alone, too injured to survive by itself. She held no anger, nor distaste, but compassion. "Where did you find it?" She straightened back up, concern noticeable within her gaze. If this was the pup of a pack nearby, she did not wish to conceal it from their grasp and start a war amidst a famine. However, an maternal instinct came over her, unwilling to let the child go. If it's parents were not responsible enough to keep track of their young, she would not be returning her anytime soon.