Bramblepoint can you hear me now?

He didn't know why he'd come back, not when it was increasingly clear that Lasher wasn't coming. He tried not to dwell on what that likely meant, especially considering his companion's condition and Deirdre's concerns when they'd last parted. Peregrine couldn't help but be reminded of Pan as he skulked aimlessly threw the recovering woodland. Of course, Pan's loss had been much more immediate but the weight on his heart was the same. Something had happened. And while he knew he could probably find out somehow, he was almost afraid of obtaining closure at the expense of hope.

The appearance of a pup in his field of vision put an immediate stop to Peregrine's wandering thoughts. He drew up short, squinting his jade gaze at the spindly youngster. He then scanned the trees, searching for some sort of escort. He'd raised enough pups to guesstimate this one's age: younger than his own, which were a little over four months old now. The Firebirds were scarcely permitted near the borders with supervision, much less welcome to roam no man's land unguarded. Although the woman who had killed Peter had been eliminated—the passing thought of her made his blood run hot, then cold—there were still many other dangers for a pup wandering alone.

When no adult made an appearance, Peregrine slowly approached the boy, eyeing him shrewdly. "Where are your parents, kid?" he barked, simultaneously announcing his presence and commanding the littler wolf's attention.