Swiftcurrent Creek so in the clear will appear that black swan

from fox's glade and the territories directly touching it's 'borders' — where falquan had spent the week — he moves northwest despite being largely unsure of which way aurëwen had gone. her trail is long lost and the tirn is left, while not necessarily dejected, certainly disappointed. he doesn't know if the path he chooses to take in what has become a desperate manhunt for rhaesuial's heiress will lead him to her but the territories surrounding the scene of the crime left him empty pawed and with more questions than answers. a start was a start ...even if it led him on a cold path.

though he'd made an exaggerated effort to avoid borders and pack territories, falquan approaches the creek's borders slow, posture neutral but with an insistency in his steps that belayed he was a man on a mission. they were close(ish) enough to the glade that he considered — hoped, rather — that maybe one of their's saw something. a guardian or a scout. it was a sliver of a chance ...but that was all he had at the moment and if his time training among the elite of the queensglaive had taught him anything it was that everything was under investigation until every potential lead, regardless of how small, was followed and thusly exhausted.

with this in mind, falquan readjusts his position ensuring there is more than ample distance between their border markings and his body, tips his head back and announces his presence while subsequently calling for an audience with one of the pack's wolves.