Hushed Willows Lesser, greater, middling - it's all the same.

Her arrival came swiftly, and Artyom lifted his tufted gold ears to observe her approach. Lumiya was as lovely as he remembered her from all those months ago, with her sweet little smile and wide, pastel eyes that looked upon him with warmth. As she drew near, the ivory ranger dipped his muzzle low; "it is good to see you again, Lumiya."

Dark eyes lifted to seek her fine features, and he gathered himself. She'd done well to have made her home among the willows and hoped she would thrive there, though he couldn't help but feel pity for the difficult situation she'd been forced to face at her tender age. "Dawn is doing well," he answered with a fond smile at her consideration of Whitebark's Queen, "I wished to thank you and your faeries for tending to her wounds. And to discuss the threat of a certain wolfdog who I learned was responsible for her injuries."

His expression soured then, and a lip curled in disgust at the mention of their common enemy. "When Dante arrived with your call for aid in what could well be a war with this beast, I could not give him an answer for you without the input of my mate," he said, brow furrowed in thought, "so while I will not force my friends to participate, I will not stand idly by and I will fight with you. Whitebarks numbers suffer lately but we can offer healers and hunters should you have need of them." His mind turned to the missing Surya, to yet another disappearing act by Aphrodite, and inhaled deeply. Oh, how he hoped they were safe, wherever they'd found themselves.