Ankyra Sound Float away, then come right back to me

Spyridon was busy going about his normal duties. Filling caches, ensuring that Kevlyn was safe, keeping an eye out for Larus, should he ever return. The last one, Larus, was especially troubling. It was Spyro's duty to keep the spawn safe, even if they were the lowest-ranking members of the sound. The fact that he had managed to slip away did not bode well for the Epivitoras. He kept waiting for the punishment from Caiaphas, but none came. And so he continued to search when he could, coming up with nothing each time. It was disappointing, to say the least.

A familiar scent (not, unfortunately, one that belonged to Larus) caught him off guard, and Spyro froze in his tracks, sea-green eyes seeking out the body to whom it belonged to. "Aella," he said, once he caught sight of her. Or at least, what was left of her. She was nothing but skin and bones, and a soft whine escaped him as he took a step toward her.