Ravensblood Forest I reach my hand toward the traces they leave

A pair of fiery eyes followed the observant she-wolf. The scent of smoke and fire still tickled at his nose in her presence, reminding him of the burnt woods of Donnelaith. She had escaped the ill fate of fire – perhaps Deirdre and Emaleth had as well?
 
It wasn’t a thought he could dwell upon. If he did – if he thought his sisters were alive.. lost, even, he knew he would scour the earth for them. He would leave no stone unturned – but the likeliness of it seemed impossible, and he stilled his sudden and erratic breathing. Ravensblood Forest was still a fledgling pack, and he was needed by Durnehviir. Their consummation might have proved to be nothing more than a demand on one another’s feelings, but if she were pregnant..  No, he couldn’t leave to chase ghosts.
 
He stalked forward then – a wraith in the shadows. His form was stocky, but his steps were quiet like a predator. But his features were softer when he studied her openly, now making himself known. As he neared her, he vaguely wondered – was the smoke still on her fur, or did he simply imagine it because of its significance to him?
 
He chose not to mention it, and with a rumbling sigh, the beast gave a nod, beckoning the pale girl to follow him. “Come,” he murmured, his eyes drifting across the barks of the tree and the bits of foliage that did grace the forest floor, despite the season. They needed to address her cuts and wounds somehow, though it would have been better if they had a healer among their ranks.