Firefly Glen pretty brown eyes

Hydra had sent him out to hunt, wishing to savor a particular delicacy.

Of course, she hadn't quite decided on just what that was, but he had been inclined to oblige her, if only to kill two birds with one stone. She'd get something to keep her entertained and he would get his entertainment out of it with a jaunt. Hunting was a fair way to keep him distracted from the goings on.

At least that had been the intention until a crosswind brought him a trace of Jarilo.

A winding path drew him towards the sable wolf gently, perhaps too leisurely for all that went on. He didn't worry about whether or not he would pass up the opportunity of finding a good morsel of anything; the glen afforded them the chances of such on a regular basis, and they were far from greedy in rifling through its options.

Soon after, he found Jarilo, and was enveloped by the standoffish wave that arose in his stance. It intrigued him as much as it did set him on edge, and his scope of their surroundings felt as though it widened in a blink. Yet even Dirge could only survey so much at a distance even as it closed.

"Jarilo," he called softly, only for the next line of any announcement to be cut clean by the shrill call of something—rather, someone—very small. Not even growing grass sprigs could fully hide the child and in turn his hackles prickled with immediate unease. He came to stop just off to the right of his in law, nose working as furiously as his gaze searched through the glen beyond. The heady scent of the pines reached him.

"Where's the mother?" Concern laced his tone; he didn't like this at all.

[party crashing ensues]