Lost Creek Hollow camión

Ksura had noted the scents of the wolves of Riverclan, but aside from his meeting with Ash Star, he'd spent the majority of his time scouting for others. With each unsuccessful scouting mission he returned to the valley, and each time he was surprised to realized that it felt a little bit more like coming home.  The voice that cast its summons wasn't one attached with a familiar face; perhaps it was time to remedy his lingering unfamiliarity. 

He looked on as a pretty silver-coated female bid farewell to what appeared to be either a child of hers, or a ward, perhaps. Nearing one year of age, the dark youngster looked fit for travel, but nevertheless it seemed she would be greatly missed by the Sharpfang. 

If he caught the youth's eyes, he'd bob his head, cast a small smile, and utter "Safe travels," as his contribution. He meant it; he'd seen mothers separated from their children before, and he could only hope, for Silvertongue's sake, that Shadowpaw's travels were easy and pleasant.