Hideaway Strath Still without voices we cry out

 

It was mere days ago since she and Roarke had played and she had been thinking about a life when the children were joining them to hunt. Now she could scarcely look at the remaining quartet and not want to break down. Her last ditch efforts to console Lotte had not worked and the mother went to work her grief out on her own - still, Hemlock could feel her grief almost as strongly as if it was her own and she fretted over the woman. 

Hemlock swallowed thickly, knowing all of the pathways for Roarke had been followed and all came to the same, desolate conclusion. He was lost. He was somewhere far away, and they could not find him. Hemlock had become a single focused figure near the rendezvous site, eyes constantly flitting from one child to the next to count them all before starting to count them again. 

No doubt the howls and cries had alerted most of the pack to the trauma of the Family, but she had not sought anyone else out. She could not imagine leaving, not right then.