Moonspear with that silver dagger in his hands

Minor participation for now, skippable once things start taking off.

The call wasn't for him, but when Arcturus' voice echoed up to the higher peaks, Dragomir rushed to attend.

He'd spent the last few days combing the borders for evidence that either the Beta or Praimfaya had returned to Moonspear, and every day was met with frustrating failure. He'd spent those days wondering why a search party hadn't been formed yet to look for the missing Moonspear wolves. In the case of Praimfaya, perhaps it was because she'd been a low ranking member who wasn't very involved with the pack, but even then, Dragomir would've sent someone out to look for her. Arcturus was another matter, an important figure in the pack whose disappearance should've been very concerning. It made Dragomir uneasy that he'd heard nothing of a search effort yet, so he'd resolved to search for them himself starting on the morrow, which was made moot by the sound of the Beta's voice on the airwaves.

Arcturus! he shouted against a rising wind when he reached the edge of the pack's rendezvous. Where were you? What's going on? The tone of the Beta's howl was unmistakable, but the Delta simply couldn't believe that Arcturus meant it. Dragomir was woefully out of the loop on the events leading up to this, so he couldn't comprehend the wounded man's behaviour now. All he knew was that deep inside him, he respected the Beta more than he respected anyone in the world—Arcturus had always seen him for who he was and treated him accordingly—and there had to be an explanation for this.