Moonspear Love you if you love a car for the road trips

He too was drawn in by the acrid scent lingering in the air, though his only hope had been misfortune on some poor, lame prey that would serve him to feed hungry mothers. Whatever spot of quiet they had was meant to be hung onto, but as it were he had long learnt that peace and quiet did not go hand in hand. At least not for Moonspear’s sake—it seemed a spot of trouble to ask of it to do so.

The stern cut of Lyra’s voice drew him in; it was distant and yet he was familiar with it from events of past and present. His hopes bolstered, thinking perhaps the pair of sisters had brought something down—they were dashed just as quickly when he saw there was nothing felled between them as they ran. There was only the bloodied maw of Yama and her frantic pace inward.

He fell in line behind them then, trailing at a clip suitable enough to survey and hold concern. A careful glance back the way they had come here and there turned up nothing, but the borders weren’t far off from here either; his hackles set to prickle uncomfortably. His view righted itself to the way ahead and to the pair, and he called out to them lowly beneath his breath.

What was going on here? Why now?