The Heartwood starts soft and sweet and turns them to hunters

The arrival of the Roangeda wolves at Moonspear drove Dragomir back out into the wilds, for with them came a resurgence of concern for his missing sister. Some of it by now had turned to anger, to blame—surely she didn't just up and leave him like their parents had, but what if? Dragomir wouldn't believe it, but doubt was insidious. Its reaching tendrils only grew and grew.

He'd searched the area around Moonspear thoroughly as he could already, but now that his legs were back to full strength, he ranged further. He pointedly avoided the woods to the north where he believed Aurëwen could be found and knew going south was equally pointless, for the Roangeda wolves had not spotted her. East, then. He would go as far east as he could go, walking well into the night.

And there she was. It was so completely unexpected that, with the wind at his back and her scent blown away from him, Dragomir didn't recognize the skeletal wolf in the trees. She wasn't close enough. Of course, his heart jumped at the sight of silver fur bright in the night, but this had happened so many times and never been her that he squashed it back down. Just another lone vagrant. That thought didn't stop him from pausing to squint at her from afar before asking, are you okay?