Moonspear While the future is fast coming for you, it always flinches first

Isilmë!

Dragomir's voice was swallowed up by the thick fog that wreathed around his shoulders and drowned his vision. He'd come to the flattest part of the territory he could find, the vast field where the mist never seemed to lift, in hopes his voice would carry as far as possible. Ideally he would have howled from the summit for his sister, but that was still far out of reach for him.

Limping forward at a frantic pace, the dark juvenile dipped his nose to the earth and sniffed desperately along every scent trail he found. Hydra and Dirge had been here recently, and there were signs of Arcturus' passing as well. The scents of other wolves prevailed, but there was no fresh sign of Isilmë's passing.

It'd been too long since he last saw her, and now he could find no recent trail. Isilmë! Dragomir cried again, voice cracking. Where are you?

He heard the shouting, but ignored the first round of summons. Though seemingly close to where he patrolled, he considered it a good thing they were on the right side of the border versus the other, not that borders had a particular way of stopping any one or thing; it simply made the decision to set teeth to flesh more precise.

It was the second, voice breaking call that halted him.

He had spun around then to listen, but only heard the movement of the brush from an uneven gait and nothing more. No secondary set of footfalls or snippets of chuckles from a well hidden little girl; there was only the frantic search of Dragomir that moved through the haze. Dirge doubled back swiftly to find him, only to miss the boy by moments as he pushed ahead. So steadfast he went after him through the brush with hackles prickling, ever aware of the dangers that lurked and loomed somewhere.

He spied the boy ahead then, and called out to him: "Drago, wait."

i hope you don't mind me, i saw no one had replied to this yet.

Thanks for saving it!

His call echoed across the mountains, but Dragomir's pricked ears could find no trace of an answer on the wind. Wherever Isilmë was, she either didn't want to be found or couldn't hear his cries. He stood still for several seconds, straining to listen, hoping she would just pop up out of the fog and tease him for worrying, but there was no response. His heart thumped painfully in his chest as he whirled, intending to run another direction and call out again somewhere else.

He jumped when Dirge called his name and unconsciously splayed his legs and prepared himself for an assault; only seconds later did he remember that he was on home turf and unlikely to be attacked by a pack mate. It took him longer than that to put a name to the voice, and by then Dirge had likely caught up to him.

Dirge! he breathed, worried eyes searching the Alpha's face for any sign of good news, but he didn't even know if anyone else realized Isilmë was gone. After all, his own panic was a little premature and presumptuous, but that was only natural for a boy who'd recently lost both parents and was clinging fiercely to the last family he had. I can't find my sister anywhere! Have you seen her?