Dragoncrest Cliffs Wait for me to come home.

He lowered his head, sweeping his salmon pink tongue across a raw sore where someone had managed to puncture an upper limb with their fangs, though kept a charcoal ear trained on his sister. Opalia spoke up, agreeing that it would be a bad idea to hang around Dragoncrest for too long, though she was not thrilled at the idea of uprooting. The cliffs were their birthplace, the resting place of their mother, their home. It was unfair that their enemy's proximity meant they had to be careful.

"I don't know," Dacio said, grey-green eyes lifting to seek the wolfess' features as he rose his crown once more. She spoke of her time venturing further down the cost in his absence, perhaps suggesting that she may wish to continue this scouting trip. The sterling yearling wasn't sure, and the competative part of him that yearned to lead did not approve of the idea of following Opalia, but he bit back his arrogance with a curious lift of his brow. "Did you find anything worth checking out?"