Ghost Lion Crag darling remember, when you come to me

Thanks, murmured Dragomir. Arcturus keeping an eye out for Praimfaya was all Dragomir could really ask for, and all he could expect. It was all he could give, as well. He didn't know the so-called Wanheda very well, but knew in some distant way, they were family. Not only that, Praimfaya was pack. He wouldn't go to the absolute ends of the earth to find her, but he owed her more of an effort than he believed was currently being made. Time for him to pick up the slack.

The anger and frustration that drove Dragomir this far was fading fast, replaced by a churning emotion that was quieter, but no less ugly. He didn't want to return to Moonspear—he didn't want another difficult conversation, and he certainly didn't want to hear a completely different account of events. He didn't want to be forced to judge who was telling the truth and who wasn't. No matter how torn he was, however, he at least owed Hydra a conversation, just as he would've felt he owed Arcturus a conversation if it was Hydra he'd spoken to first.

So, feeling awkward and put out and sad, Dragomir said, hope to see you around. I guess I better... get back. Get back. Get out. Get away. What difference did it really make what path he chose now? Would he be happy on either of them? Probably not; nevertheless, he had to choose one. So with a sad smile and a brief wag of his tail, the boy turned to leave, pulling his ears back in a typical sign of deference to Arcturus. Despite leaving them all when they needed him, the boy still respected Arcturus. Maybe not as much as he had a few days prior, but enough to still show it as he made to leave.