Firefly Glen don't call my name, don't call my name

She was focused on her task, but age and experience alike would not leave her oblivious to her surroundings. Perhaps it was a scent on the wind, or her eyes passing over something other that was not a part of the normal pattern the Glen she memorized had. More likely than not the latter, for as Hydra's gaze panned over her, it shifted right back. The matriarch lifted her head from the earth, ears pricked and alert. 

The black phase wolf she regarded did not carry herself in a way that threatened the matriarch, but Hydra knew better than to underestimate another wolf. She was not petite, but neither was she large. There was something terribly familiar about the other, but it was a thing she could not put a name to. Sniffing at the wind, Hydra only recognized that she had not met this particular wolf before in her lifetime. 

Hydra addressed her, You have not happened to encounter a pale wolf with dark circles under her eyes on your travels, have you? She started, thinking of Praimfaya. Dragomir had been missing for less time than she, and perhaps he was not even missing. He is just clearing his head, she soothed herself. Hydra knew she likely might not be able to stay her tongue and ask after him in any case, but first she ought to start with Praimfaya. For Opalia, and Dacio. For herself.