Wheeling Gull Isle With scarves of red tied round their throats

It had been some time since Phox had been on the borders of a pack he did not know. Had it ever truly happened? He had been born in the caldera, roamed for a time, come back to find Towhee, and he had been with her and their extended family and friends ever since. Still, he knew the drill, as he'd been on the other side of this situation dozens, if not hundreds of times by now. Phox flattened his ears, lowered his tail, and licked his lips in deference.

Thank you, he said. My name is Phox Redhawk, and I'm looking for a blonde, golden-eyed wolf named Niamh. I followed her scent from our home the coast just that way, Phox said, gesturing back to the main shoreline. If she is here, I would like to see her. If she needs more time, I am a patient wolf and willing to wait. I just want to know that she and the children are safe.