Hoshor Plains some things are in our control (and others not)

When she returned to the caldera, Towhee was back, albeit badly injured and looking down a long road to recovery. As if that news wasn't bad enough, Tierra had traded places with their mother and was now missing. Meerkat promptly glued herself to the ailing Sovereign's side, finally getting the opportunity to update her mother about Phox, Niamh and the kids (if Rue hadn't beaten her to it), and explaining why they weren't back yet. She wasn't sure how Towhee would take the news, especially in her condition, but her mother just begged her to go back out there, round up all their wayward loved ones and bring them home, please.

It was hard to leave with Towhee in such bad shape, though Meerkat reminded herself: this was what her mom and her dad needed her to do, especially since the former literally couldn't join the effort. This was her vocation as a master scout and there had never been a greater call for or test of her skills than this. Besides, she needed the space from the caldera for other reasons, though she hadn't burdened her mother with those, nor given them much thought herself lately. She wasn't entirely sure she ever wanted to settle back there, though there simply wasn't time to dwell on it at present.

She determinedly disembarked into the wilderness once more, her sights set loosely on Reyes. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd absconded with Tierra or whether her sister had simply run to find him or even Towhee. In any case, it was her most promising lead. She unfortunately couldn't locate any fresh traces to track, so Meerkat decided to start close to home and then gradually broaden her sweep, sending out verbal beacons as she went.

"Tierra! Prevost! If you can hear me, please answer!" she shouted at the top of her voice when she ranged toward the edge of a grassy plain somewhere in the great stretch between the caldera and the plateau. The yearling held her breath and pricked her ears for any reply when a thought abruptly hit her over the head: she had completely forgotten about Sakhmet and her search for Kigipigak...

A distant rumble of thunder pushed that thought right back out of her mind. The wind picked up suddenly, making the plain ripple like the ocean. A few cool droplets of rain pattered her head and back, though the real rainfall held off for the moment. Eyeing the thunderheads rolling in from the direction of the coast, Meerkat plunged ahead into the swaying grasses, keen to keep searching unless the weather grew severe enough to force her hand.

The northwind came readily to the plains and laved the landscape with a curlish ripple, beneath which ran the young woman, driven as much by the encroaching weather as by her hunger.

The twitching yellow of the dry grass would soon become something else entirely; the woman was eager to reach shelter before the sky could rip open. The ensuing deluge was sorely needed by the abundance of cracked topsoil she tread across. As Nuka roamed the smell of jasmine-and-clove began to hang in the air. It would not be long, now.

Distantly someone called out. Nuka could not make out the words and was unsure if she should proceed; she could not see anyone upon the field. The golden girl was blending in well among the grasses. They are like the swaying reeds at high-tide, thought Nuka blithely, and climbed along the hillside until it evened out. It was at this point she saw the poised shape of a wolf and knew the voice she had heard was real.

—hear me, please answer! Bellowed the girl. As Nuak had not heard the muggy, distant calling from before, she thought perhaps the stranger was lost. That they called for help. She thought to reply; but by then her path had almost crossed with their's, and so it seemed more suitable to approach with a level posture and low tail.

Why do you call? She would go on to ask, letting the slouch of her shoulders and bounce of her tail-end show her harmlessness.

The wind gusted again, carrying the scent of another wolf within close range. Before Meerkat could decide whether to turn toward it or keep moving in her chosen direction, a face appeared among the tall grasses bending and swaying in the strengthening gale. The yearling ground to a stop, some of the blades whipping against her flanks. The air filled with the soft susurration of it, punctuated here and there with faraway peals of thunder.

Above the sounds of the storm making its way inland, Meerkat caught the stranger's question. "I'm looking for two little girls," she replied, raising her voice to be sure she could be heard. "Have you seen them?"

She could provide descriptions but that was likely all the detail any wolf needed. Her eyes locked on the stranger's face, trying to read the expression and whether her words prompted any sort of familiarity. Meerkat made sure to drop her gaze after a few beats, though not before observing the stranger's two-toned eyes. Her ears strained forward, filling with the voice of the wind.

The rain begins to pick up; far over the ocean comes the deep rumble of thunder. When she was young Nukilik loved storms; she often wondered if the sounds they made could be heard beneath the waves, or felt. Childish thoughts that were soon purged to make way for many more important things.

As drops darken the top-line of her coat, she does not notice them. The stranger's face is bright with hope and focused, briefly, upon her. Nukilik shed her shyness long ago (or so it feels to her); she does not pale when the stranger looks upon her face.

I have not seen anyone but you in quite some time.

A thoughtful purse of her lips. Then she is glancing over her shoulder to where the horizon is growing dark. The storm is coming. But a thought does occur to Nuka as she faces the stranger again—Perhaps I can help you to look. Are you their mother?

Apology draws across her face. The lightness of her posture no longer feels appropriate and so the lofty, friendly raise of her tail ends. The slightest frown curls the corners of her lips. The golden girl does not look old enough to lead her own enclave. Nukilik is a poor judge of age, considering her ongoing lifestyle of scavenging and loneliness. She feels a flare of jealousy that someone else be a mother before her; this brief but strong sensation is stamped down hastily before it can spoil her mood.

She let out a breath, then drew in another, the air thickening with humidity. The wind cut through it somewhat but Meerkat paid the weather very little mind. She watched the stranger's posture shift seconds before a question popped out of her mouth. Meerkat was already shaking her head before she had entirely voiced it, her mind flicking briefly to Mateo.

"No, I'm their older sister," she said. "My name's Meerkat and we're from Redhawk Caldera, back that way." She gestured to the south with her head, her snout buffeted by a crosswind. She paused, thinking about how that wasn't technically true of Prevost, though that detail didn't matter. "You're welcome to join me for as long as you like," she replied, her words partly garbled by a thunderclap. She repeated herself just in case, tacking on, "I appreciate it."

She saw the first pulse of lightning even as she motioned for the she-wolf to follow her as she continued northward across the plain. The grasses danced rather crazily now as raindrops began to fall from the sky with proper continuity. Meerkat glanced up and saw the sky had grown very dark very quickly. She bit at her lip, hoping both Prevost and Tierra were somewhere sheltered. It would make them harder to find but they shouldn't be out in this.