Verdant Basin she may have died; we're looking into it.

Artaax felt his admiration growing as she announced her own name and title. He had always thought the ranks the common packs gave themselves were laughably stupid. He'd scoffed at the idea of some low-blooded wolf deeming himself alpha and commanding a following of other low bloods, all pretending to have even a sliver of the power and prestige of the Dragedakru. But somehow, coming from Niamh, it struck him as endearing, and he stepped a little closer once more. "I'm sorry I missed you on your first visit," he said softly, "But I'm glad fate saw fit to rectify that error."

He was well on his way to spending the next twenty minutes to twenty years simply admiring the beautiful golden Redhawk when she spoke again, and he came quickly back to reality. His brows furrowed in puzzlement as she spoke of Rory and allowing her to apprentice with them. As though one of Drageda could possibly benefit from being educated by a common pack, and as though he knew who Rory was. After a moment, the name clicked into place and a picture began to paint itself in his head.

"We did not send her," Artaax said smoothly, "She abandoned Drageda without our knowledge. I've come to take her home. Though she is being... difficult about it." He felt annoyance blister his good spirits over dwelling on Bat's stupidity. He wanted to get back to the admiring each other and the flirting, though he had no idea how to accomplish that.