Bramblepoint Sweet child o' mine

Shrike's heart sank when Elwood explained to him what had happened. His eyes narrowed and he bared just the tips of his teeth in an expression of frustration and grief. Another one. Another kidnapper had taken one of the Caldera's pups, this time a black wolf with red eyes, and a male. Perhaps some sick relative of the one he'd tracked when Peter had been killed, but there was no way to tell. Shrike lowered his head into the pose of a stalker, nostrils twinging. 

"Yes. Got scent?" He asked, knowing that he'd need to start somewhere. Just having the physical description wouldn't be enough to track, though a wolf with red eyes might be something that would travel well through words. If Elwood wasn't on the trail, they could likely scour the borders in that area to find the scent of any wolf that did not belong to their pack that had crossed over. Either way, he was suddenly ready to begin another wolfhunt, even if it took as much out of him as the last one did. Something in his mind told him to go get Sassafras, but he might do that later; time was precious, and if the wolf had simply taken Lucy and hadn't killed her on the spot, they wouldn't have much time to play around with.