Moonspear we all have a hunger

He wasn't Hydra, but Dirge intercepted the call anyway.

Usually she was the first to field such things. It was her nature to while he approached things much more leisurely. This advent was no different than the rest and genuinely, he had thought to stumble across the summons with half of Moonspear already there, and half of the matter already taken care of. Or someone bleeding all over the place, whichever happened to be the standard fare of those who came a-knockin'.

Except... it was Dragomir who called—he didn't quite take his time to get there because of that. It wasn't a hurried pace, but there was a certain directness in his motion. Kinship had drawn that out of him and he had come to favor the boy in the way he did his own. With no real notion of what or where Blackhead herself was, there was no telling what trouble would await. He imagined it would be the same sort that would propel @Hydra or @Arcturus there too.

Yet he was the first to witness finding the pitchness of Dragomir's pelt against the starkness of the borderland, and to witness the tired shift of the wraith-like wolf with him.

"Dragomir," he greeted, only for his brow to furrow where recognition sparked. Isilmë. Concern was left to fill in the space of his falling features and he considered calling for Hydra to hasten her, but she'd be there soon enough. For now, he could at least attempt to tend to their own, wherever she had gone. Grown a bit more, perhaps, but still too young and ill-equip to handle the harshness that embodied their reality.

"Isilmë, are you all right?" And then, to her brother: "Where did you find her?" And how? Where had she gone? Had she been taken, and a hundred more questions dared to rise to his tongue. But he took such things one step at a time—she was tired, so very tired, and he only hoped to have more of a gentle finesse than he believed he possessed.

if i replied out of turn i'm sorry, i got excited and i was awake for one of these