Moonspear Leave me your wake to remember you by

It was as Dragomir feared: Isilmë was gone again. He hadn't seen her for a month and all of her scent trails on the mountain were growing stale. The most recent one was already a week or two old. The places he knew her to sleep were cold and abandoned. It didn't take long for him to conclude that she'd left him once again. Last time was involuntary and he'd felt incredibly guilty about not finding her sooner in spite of the energy he'd spent looking for her. He'd vouched for her on her return, put his word on the line, and she'd let him down.

This time, the anguish was colder and angrier. This time, he wouldn't waste his breath. It seemed she was right. She was more like their mother than he'd thought, for even if it was involuntary, she must've put herself in bad situations for this to happen at all. And they weren't hungry kids anymore. They could fight. They could hunt.

With an uncharacteristic glower marring his handsome features, Dragomir climbed the slopes in search of @Hydra. Recently her scent on the mountain was amplified, changed in ways that made his stomach clench of its own volition. He didn't know why and he didn't understand the sensation, so there was no intention behind any of it—simply the natural reaction of an unrelated male wolf to a strong female in heat. His sexual immaturity, coupled with the fact that Hydra was like an adoptive parent to him, made it more uncomfortable than anything. For that reason he'd avoided getting too close to her, but it was crucial that he speak to her now on the subject of his missing sister.