Cassiopeia's View and we will never stop looking

There was a sound nearby. It wasn't what Hemlock expected to hear; no doubt if Roarke had heard her he would have answered her with gusto. Instead, this was a pitiful sort of wailing, not unlike the way that she had cried her devastations out into the world. Hemlock was quiet as she tracked the sounds, coming upon a puppy that seemed to have seen the worst of the world. Hemlock let out a soft crooning sound, something she'd reflexively begun to do between Sirius and her godchildren. If Roarke was here, she would have done the same to him. 

She neared the child and sniffed it over, finding no blood amidst the proverbial cloud of dust trailing over the puppy. "Oh little pigpen," She murmured softly, "What has happened to you?" There was no way a child so young managed to get up to the View; not with it's rough edges and steep rises. With a soft sigh Hemlock laid down, gently nudging the child closer to her abdomen and some warmth.