Silvertip Mountain turnkey blood

patrol is in her blood. she's there already, not leaving any scent—this is not her home—but watching all the same, a silent sentinel on the frontier of Ursus. she smells him before any other sense kicks in; she turns, watching, waiting for him to come closer.

fa— the other syllables fall away, useless. merrigh, Avicus amends. it is formal, stilted, solemn. it has been a long time since they've spoken without an audience.

the question that's been on her mind since she arrived surfaces once more. where Ave? she's seen hide nor hair of her brother, and while she's glad of it, it's not the least bit confusing. he had been such a presence. . .she doubted he would abandon the pack purposefully.

maybe he's dead, says a voice in her head, and it's too loud for comfort.

her ears fold back, as if she's afraid her inner monologue shows too well upon her face.