Ravensblood Forest The last wish.

His initial inspection brought to mind Phox, who by now could have been anywhere. Mou did not know if his brother had followed them off of the island or if the man lingered to await the ghost of Niamh; so when he saw the shape of the girl his concern instantaneously grew threefold.

The thin fur of his shoulders began to prickle, not that it was all too noticeable. With the one eye trained on the stranger Mou could study them; but his mind was busy thinking of all the terrible things that could have happened to his missing child.

His child. It was the first time Mou had considered those born of Niamh as his own.

The darkness on the stranger was not nearly as heavy. With Phox, the man was composed of graphite and charcoal. This wolf was warmer, and as they lowered their posture, Mou saw a flash of something closer to caramel scattered throughout their underfurs.

Have you seen a girl? Very little. Black fur. Was playing... He tried to explain in that stunted, breathy voice of his. Hard to keep family together. His sides were still undulating from the frantic nature of his search, though now he turned his attention away from the yearling, trying to scout the shape of Vesper among the trees.