Herbalists' Cache Little devil, all alone

The Rise had been blessed with the kiss of an early spring. The days were just a touch more tolerable, and the vegetation seemed to crawl back to life once again. 

Mulherin, still preoccupied with the thought of his missing sister, picks a path that delves far off from the Rise's borders. Signs of Masquerade's presence, once constant, are nowhere to be found. His hopes are not dashed yet, however. The boy continues to press on.

Once within the Cache, he is met with the scent of spring hares, herbs, and most notably, that of a loner. He tracks this trail, idly curious, maybe a twinge territorial, to see what the wolf was up to. It didn't take long to find her.

He is stopped in his tracks by the rustle of a scurrying hare, accompanied by the sound of a distant voice. Sharp eyes find the wolf amid the shrubbery—she is lean and silvery, still crouched outside of the hare's burrow. Without any attempts to conceal his presence, he starts toward her at an easy pace.

No luck so far? He asks as he nears.