Moonspear While the future is fast coming for you, it always flinches first

Isilmë!

Dragomir's voice was swallowed up by the thick fog that wreathed around his shoulders and drowned his vision. He'd come to the flattest part of the territory he could find, the vast field where the mist never seemed to lift, in hopes his voice would carry as far as possible. Ideally he would have howled from the summit for his sister, but that was still far out of reach for him.

Limping forward at a frantic pace, the dark juvenile dipped his nose to the earth and sniffed desperately along every scent trail he found. Hydra and Dirge had been here recently, and there were signs of Arcturus' passing as well. The scents of other wolves prevailed, but there was no fresh sign of Isilmë's passing.

It'd been too long since he last saw her, and now he could find no recent trail. Isilmë! Dragomir cried again, voice cracking. Where are you?