Dawnlark Plains you can call upon this family, you can call upon this day

imrathil was sorry to not be of more assistance, but there was no helping in languishing. he offered a threadbare smile as wraen accepted his lack of knowledge, agreeing with his assertion that the wolves that had once lived here had likely been forced to move on. he hoped that the fires here had been slow burning and that none had perished, but from the blackened gout of the earth, he knew such naive hope was fanciful at best.

he turned his attention to wraen as she introduced herself; like everything else, it triggered no jog of memory in the dark male. "oh, hi wraen. my friend calls me imrathil. we were traveling, but.. i am not sure where he went.. he was grey and older, with a big scar over his eyes. i'm.." he glanced downwards, hiding the distress that threatened to overcome his voice -- "i'm afraid it might have been his last winter. you have not seen him, have you?"