Whitebark Stream I'll pull the trigger with my eyes closed

The corners of his mouth tugged upward in a hint of a smile, though the muscles slackened at his comrade's observation. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and he wasn't fooling anybody. Artyom longed to rest his wearied head, to curl close to his mate and simply sleep safe in the knowledge of having her to wake up to.

She at least had a sliver of good news to share, and the pale-furred Alpha thrust his ears forward in eagerness to hear. "Oh," he blinked, and his thoughts turned at once to the two young she-wolves who'd arrived at their borders and asked after the late Kavik. One of those, perhaps?

He hoped so. Despite the strain of his first meeting with each if Kavik's daughters and the sorrow that wilted their hope of reunion, Artyom felt some small comfort in knowing that Alsek would be safe.

It was unfortunate that the same could not be said of Pele.

"Thank you," he answered smoothly, earthen gaze seeking the fine features of Aphrodite. He appreciated her keeping that information to herself, for Artyom had been responsible for the missing cubs and he supposed it was his update to deliver; "I will send word to Easthollow soon."