Ouroboros Spine aftaim

From his loveless dam, Dragomir took two things: the recognizable colour of his nose, and his perceptiveness. These were granted to him by nature, and they belonged wholly to him now. It was thanks to the latter that Dragomir noticed the change in Adrastus beyond the simple parting of his lips, which was explained moments later.
Not for some time, said Dragomir softly, turning his face back toward the towering mountain in the distance. I lived there when I was younger. Hydra was my guide, and Arcturus was my mentor.
He took for granted that Adrastus would recognize these names. Arcturus left a long time ago, too, so maybe his was less familiar, but Dragomir couldn't imagine Hydra ever leaving the mountain. It left little question as to her fate that her scent couldn't be found anywhere near it, but that was not something Dragomir wanted to think about. There would be time to learn the truth. Now was not it.
It smells a little like Moonspear did here, he explained, but I don't know why. I can't put a name to any face, but... There are survivors? I was on my way to visit Hydra when I saw it.
He felt certain he didn't need to elaborate. It was impossible to miss the fallen rocks on the mountainside, and the absence of a pack that had been there for as long as Dragomir had lived left the place feeling hostile and empty. This valley was warmer, somehow, more welcoming, and he was glad the former wolves of Moonspear found a place nearby to comfort their souls.