Wild Berry Meadow she the full moon, he the werewolf

something stirred wintersbane out of his slumber. a feeling. a whisper from mephala or sithis ...he is not sure who. it is gone as quick as it rouses him to consciousness and he sets to the borders without delay on an instinct, shaking the last vestiges of slumber from himself as he traverses through the dark woods, his pace slowing only as he draws nearer, the a sickly sweet scent of berries wafting his way, mixed as it is with an all-too-familiar pack scent. moonspear. he has tried his best to avoid detection, on the off chance that charon cared enough to brand him a traitor. he didn't want trouble with them, and he certainly didn't want them to become trouble for blackfeather.

he shrugs past the trees, paws stopping short of a skull, glacial gaze settling upon the cerberus. hydra, at it's point. the gamma's head rose studious and stalwart. cerberus, he rumbles a collective greeting before his gaze turns to rest upon hydra in full. it is her he addresses. why have you come here? wintersbane inquires unable to quell the assumption that their presence here is for him.