Swiftcurrent Creek You could bring down my level of concern

Late. Dreadfully, inexcusably late — or maybe he did have an excuse, tattered as he was, but Panacea still could not shake his guilt. He limped across the borders a mess of healing wounds and bloodstained furs; less gilded than darkly ruddy, now. Grimy, even.

After a few moments he called out for @Akavir. If nothing else, he could deliver his belated news before bothering Arlette. Maybe they'd already found the kid anyway. Panacea could hope, at least.