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Worripa had not returned to the rendezvous site, and Sequoia had not thought too much of it. The children were older now, and they had more freedoms. But when as days passed, and she failed to catch sight of him, she began to worry and search for him. Surely he could not have gone too far. She sniffed the ground for droppings he may have left behind, for scent markers along the borders, but there was nothing.

She wove her way through Rivenwood's claim, combing each and every square inch she could reach, but Sequoia could find no signs of him that weren't already stale. She swallowed thickly. This was not good.

The piebald mother returned to the rendezvous site, feeling defeated. If Mahler did not already know, he would soon enough. She should have noticed sooner. She should have been worried sooner. How could she let this happen?