Bearclaw Valley it's by the light of the plasma screens

ashlar followed her dutifully as a shadow, a small smile brightening his ochre countenance. the expression lingered in his eyes and for a moment astara wondered how something so warm could find its way into the arctic soul of ursus -- certainly, he was not cut of the same cloth as she.

she pressed on without comment. astyanax's scent was inconsistent and stale -- but she stood at one spot in particular where it was strongest and nosed it pointedly, waiting for ashlar to catch on before she explored the area for any further evidence of the boy's passing.