Qeya River a dollar for your future... a dollar for your fate.

Ksura was breathless by the time he sped to the scene. Sparrow shout had been so distant that at first, he wasn’t sure he’d heard it. He cut through the pack lands to cut the time it’d take him to arrive near the borders, and when he came in range of the stranger’s scent blown inland from the borders, he bolted. 

He arrived to see only Wren and Sparrow; the scent of the boy’s urine on the air, while the stranger’s lingered still. He greeted his leader with a low, wagging tail and a sniff to her chin, to gather scent if there were any, noting the tension that lingered faintly in her posture. He turned, and sniffed the place where the stranger had stood.

He turned his head to Wren. ”Trouble?” He asked, then.