Moonspear no wonder i was drawn to her like a moth to flame

tzar's ventured a lot further than he'd been instructed to, but without the steady gaze and fierce nips to his notched and healing right ear from ghost to keep him on track, tzar keeps moving.

PEREGRINE! tzar calls out into the wilds, listening for any sort of squeak. anything that might resemble a young pup trying to communicate. only to be met with silence beyond the usual noises of the world.

he smells no sign of young peregrine.

tzar doesn't know if someone had snuck in and stole the young boy but it was a prevailing theory he clung to with an obsessiveness that tended to take hold within him. the idea seemed a bit far-fetched — and suicidal — that a stranger would sneak into the hobbit hole and snatch peregrine without waking any of them. especially since not all of them were deaf. but it was a possibility that his mother had not ruled out and thus tzar did not either.

his steps only slow as he draws nearer to pack lands.

it was a long shot, but maybe they'd be willing to keep an eye out , or maybe they'd seen something suspicious ... just in case.

head tips back to call for anyone in the pack, letting them know of his presence, a request of an audience of anyone that would come.