Fairspell Meadow and i run from wolves.

[throws Cypress in here and ruins everything]

Tagging for reference.

It was strange to Cypress — the sheer number of others @Rannoch and @Rian had come across. The unfamiliar names drummed absently through the raven’s memory without faces to match: Liffey-Keoni-Rose-Tryp-Kaori-Redshank-Liffey-Keoni-Rose-Tryp-Kaori-Liffey-Keoni-Rose-Tryp-Kaori-Redshank —

— and Cypress? He had met only two of them. His mind was occupied with one name — a name with a face that he feared he wouldn’t recognize the next time he saw it. He didn’t have Rannoch’s sunny personality or Rian’s quiet decisiveness, and the comparisons he drew between himself, his littermate, and his cousin never seemed to come out in his favor. The eidolon was trying to distance himself again — not exactly deliberately but perhaps instinctively — but fortunately for him, Rannoch and Rian wouldn’t quit.

Today the darkling Frostfur was wandering, and his long, rangy limbs had brought him further south than he’d ever been. It was against his nature to leave his traveling companions for long, but there was an acrid, bitter tang in the air that he couldn’t identify, and it strengthened the further he went.

At the sound of a scuffle, the raven quickened his pace — and when he spotted a silvern blur in the distance that vaguely resembled a wolf tangling roughly with a brown-and-black blur with scythe-like claws and an evidently terrible attitude, he didn’t stop. A slight stutter in his stride betrayed his unease, but he barreled forward with an infuriated roar unlike any sound he’d ever made before —

— because the gray was Eshe and the brown was bear and this time he could save her —

— and, instinctually mindful of the gray blur and only vaguely aware of the three-headed beast of ink and nightmare, he sought to use his weight to ram into the quickhatch with little care to his own personal safety. It was his goal to knock the beast away from the girl who was not his mother — but everything was a mess of sound and sensation. He collided with something — he thought it felt bearlike, but it could very well have been Liffey herself — and furiously attempted to snap at the nearest clump of reddish-brown fur.