Witch's Marsh the cry of a loon

It was hard to tell exactly when Okeanos' scent had vanished from her coat, but it had, and she took notice of its absence with a heavy heart. Whatever had drawn him away must have been something good - Ibis refused to think that something ill had befallen her beloved brother - and regardless of the state he might've been in, she kept herself very busy in the daylight hours so as not to think too deeply on it. If she did not focus on the many necessary tasks then her new friend Awol would go hungry; perhaps he would leave for some place better suiting him, and take Bhediya away too? The girl hoped that they would stay; she was alone without them, and she had never really, truly, been alone before.

The daylight hadn't been squandered. Ibis had made sure to retrace the terrain she knew the best as she hunted for signs of life within the mire. She ventured in to parts unknown just as the light began to dim; by the time the night had fallen she was investigating a series of small hills bordering one of the deep-set bits of marsh; far off came a haunting melody she had never noticed before. Maybe it wasn't hopeless to camp here after all, she thought --? The girl paused and cocked her head, listening as the loon sang to the drumming of her pulse, slowly coming to an end.

Then there was stillness.

Please keep singing, she murmured in to the night air. She waited patiently, imploring the creature for some sign of life — and then there came the reprieve; the sound did not lift Ibis' spirits as much as she had hoped, but a small smile passed across her face all the same.

There was something else too, on the tail end of it. A deeper sound, and very close. She spun on her heels in the mud and made to intercept it, not knowing where exactly it came from or how far — running right in to the burly shape of another wolf. Her face brushed up against his stout chest and she gasped — ooph! — and she slipped back in the mud.