The Sentinels Shun the moon and wait instead for sister's sunny day

Pippin had been a wanderer from the very day he had left Marauder’s Keep. He had stopped in packs from time to time – but never with the intention of truly joining them or staying. They knew this, but it was surprising to see how many were willing to accommodate the youthful wolf if he trades services for a meal and a safe resting place.
 
He wasn’t sure why he found himself back within Teekon Wilds. The distaste for the forest before him was clear in his bright, molten eyes as he scoured the remains of dead trees and ash. It would replenish itself in time – the scent of devastation was even beginning to fade, he felt, and be replaced by the sea to the west of it. But he wouldn’t be here to see it – Pippin had no interest in chasing ghosts.
 
His movement was smooth – the confidence that emboldened him something his family would not recognize if they ever came upon him. The naïve and frail boy was long gone – in his place, a survivor had been born, and Pippin’s hardened eyes cast about, catching glimpse of two dark figures in the enar distance.
 
He withheld emotion – stalking forward as he studied the two strangers with emotionless caution. He would either be met with hostility, or he could part from them with some kind of information on the Wilds and what secrets they now held within them.