Silverlight Terrace to the stars, with regards

Mato offers Seabreeze a soft smile, and his tail gives a soft twitch as she calls him ‘her king’. Haran that is a title he does not feel he is worthy of; not yet at least. Calling himself the fourth brightest star in the northern hemisphere is one thing but king was a whole different thing. Still, he does not correct her. If she wishes to call him king then that is her choice and she is welcome to do so (even if he does not agree). He makes to move, to begin the task of finding them something to eat, whether it be together or split and go their individual ways when the scent of blood, pungent and fresh greets him. Black, leathery nostrils flare and umbra dusted cape hairs bristle with unease. He had not scented anyone as they’d made their way around the outskirt of the Terrace but it is clear that they are not the only predators here. He cast a glimpse back at Aerlinn, a means of silent communication that he, of course, is going to go investigate before he follows the scent.

The figure looks like any other wolf in the shadows and moonlight, but he recognizes her. Or he thinks he does. Perhaps he is just helplessly hopeful. “Nova?” Her names comes from him, a little bit breathless, a little bit choking. Could it be? But Sebastian had told him that she, along with their mother, was missing. Umbra dipped ears flutter back, to rest at half mast atop his skull but the empyrean does not rush forward hoping that he has not made an embarrassing mistake by mistaking someone else for his (missing) sister.