Ouroboros Spine wolf-mother, where you been?

Massaraq padded on the edges of the territory, and the scent caught his nose he thought he might be dreaming. A memory, barely that, a hope a wish perhaps more than what he could solidly place. And yet, playing outside with Kivaluk, snuggled warm in the den. Things lost to him now but he could remember them, perhaps better in memory and he followed recklessly the scent and then the sound and then the sight of fire and autumn and a cardinal's wings. And a cry rose up in his chest. Returned it said. Joy it promised. Hope it sang. Disbelief echoed.

He rushed up, and yet his senses did not deceive him -stranger things had been known to happen. "Sistraa!" He stopped short of her from a dead spring, partially wishing to embrace and yet not assuming he would be well received. A shadow settled evenly by his side as his silhouette stood still, a smile. "You've come back?" A question.