Dragoncrest Cliffs There's gonna be a party when the wolf comes home

While Mireille was out hunting with the Rivenwood jerks, Sobo remained at home, feeling more lonesome by the day without his favourite sister there. No amount of it could make him seek her out and beg to participate with them. He would sooner never see Druid and her ilk again. That didn't change how terribly left out he felt, and there was only so much tussling he could handle from his brother when he was feeling the way he did. Sobo peeled away from Loko in the early morning and set a course across the cliffs.

He meant to cut across the field and head out to the borders, where he would stare plaintively in the direction Mireille had gone, but he stopped in his tracks when he spotted an unfamiliar wolf crouched in the grass. She moved with a calculated patience that he wasn't sure he could mimic no matter how he tried. He couldn't even see what she was stalking, so inexperienced were his tracker's eyes.

His mamans had described every older sibling to him after Reyes. He knew this must be Chacal who had recently returned. Knowing who she was did not stop the galloping of his shy heart or the way his tongue felt heavy in his mouth at the thought of speaking to her. No matter how many times he met new wolves, it never got easier, family or not. There was also no way he would go unnoticed thanks to his standing there and staring like a dimwit for so long. As if remembering himself, Sobo dropped to the ground, half hopeful that she hadn't seen him at all.