Barrow Fields tessellate

Her face fell dramatically as Komodo shook his head, dismay blooming in her stomach, like she'd eaten bad fish. Another dead end. She was beginning to run out of hope--Mou wasn't exactly the most inconspicuous of wolves, and if no one she'd talked to had seen him. . . She tried not to dwell on worst-case scenarios, her ears canting forward to catch the rest of Komodo's speech.

"No!" Maegi argued, her jaw firming. It was her turn to shake her head, and emphatically, at that. "He didn't remember anything from his past life; he couldn't talk! He had just started to move around by himself when he left. He's gonna get hurt out here, Komodo." She was suddenly furious, both at Mou for departing without word--and at herself, for failing to find him. For making a complete and utter mess of this search.

He didn't have baggage. . .he couldn't! He had remembered nothing, told her nothing. Why go to all the trouble of hiding your past from your new family when you didn't have a past to begin with? The island was so removed from the rest of the wilds that the chances of ghosts popping up at inopportune times. . .

But then she thought of Moonshadow, appearing so out of the blue. She had managed to track Maegi here--why couldn't someone do the same for Mou? Komodo's argument began to make sense, and somehow, it made her feel even worse.