Sun Mote Copse verlamming

Finley was not usually one for prowling the borders, but since Sugar's disappearance, she haunted them like a wraith. Every call that sounded held the barest whisper of a promise that there might be some news of her wayward daughter and Fin, foolish though she knew it was, let hope bloom. Every damn time. She couldn't help it, it was in her nature to not let go of the things she loved. Even when it seemed like she had, she kept it deep inside of her heart, hidden, held close.

So, when the call at the borders came, Fin was on her way quick as her old bones allowed. By forcing herself to work the past couple of months, she had found herself growing stronger again. She would never reclaim the strength of her youth, especially not with the hip injury from the past that still caused a slight but noticeable limp, but she was no longer letting herself waste away and calling it "retirement". Not all signs of her age could be that easily remedied--the white that used to cover her undersides reached further towards her black spine every day, peppering across her face and her sides like flakes of snow that simply wouldn't melt. Still, she felt strong-ish and confident when she came to a stop before the stranger that sought an audience with her pack that day.

"You rang?" she asked, her posture authoritative but not unwelcoming. She took the man in with a sweep of her eyes and a deep breath of his scent. He did smell like her little Squirrel, nor did she appear to be with him. There didn't appear to be as much hope as she'd thought in this encounter, but she held her judgement, just in case.