~Empty chairs at empty tables, where my friends shall sing no more~{J}

Malachi picked another bit of meat off the frozen carcass of one of the birds cached from their recent hunt. He ate in haste, as fast as one could when they were dealing with a carcass of equal meat, bone, and feather. Though the forest blocked the horizon from sight, the soft light filtering through the evergreens told him dawn had crested the distant hills. Spitting another feather from his mouth, he pushed in for another bite. But a lone chord shook the frozen air and he withdrew with a turn of his head in the direction of the call. An instinctual frown twitched across his mouth and the boy hesitated for a moment before easing himself to his paws.

Kicking a spray of snow to cover the remnants of his meal, the boy made off in the direction of the call despite the itch that pricked him through with every step. He had hoped to cross Duskfire's bounds before the others arose and to make good on his way to the edge of the world by midday. His trip to the ocean would have to wait now, a thought that didn't settle well with Malachi. He wanted only to move, already having wasted enough time debating whether he should really go.

His impatience remained a twitch inside, for his heart to see alone. Forcing himself to the situation at hand, he pulled his way through the trees until he saw the wolf's cinnamon coat from a far. Not wishing to scare her like he had Scarlett, Malachi slowed and let out a gentle chuff as he approached her. Her exhaustion became clear the closer he drew, but he steadied his gaze despite the concern that rose within him. The girl held the scent of the barren land and the frostbitten air, and if she belonged to a neighbouring pack, it was not one he knew. "You called." The warmth of his breath billowed in a foggy cloud before his face, obscuring for a second the cinnamon girl he assessed through calm eyes.