His sister had left him. Well - abandoned him felt more accurate. As soon as Kirastasia was positive that their mother Queens was away, most likely hunting or patrolling the borders or tearing the skull from an unlucky traveler's shoulders, the young pale princess had promptly trotted out of their shared den and into the night-drenched depths of Malignant. Kavik waited for her, unnaturally still and focused for a boy his age. The dark chocolate Alphess of this territory had confined her children in their den longer than she normally would in order to prevent any crazy assassins from murdering them; since the only things maintaining the fragile peace between this pack and Abendrot were Kavik and Kira, Kavik and his sister were precious. It was dangerous for them to explore the kingdom alone. Queens had said so. So why was Kirastasia gone? Why hadn't Kavik tried harder to keep her at home?

With a soft whine, the dark prince - fur so deeply brown it looked black as ink under moonlight - padded cautiously from the mouth of the tiny cave. His amber-ringed obsidian eyes cast about anxiously in the darkness, searching for a flash of brindled white fur. Nothing. He sucked in a massive breath, tasting the air for the scents of any nearby wolves.

He caught something on a breeze. A wolf, younger than him. Not Kirastasia. Not of Malignant.

In less than a second the fearful aura that clouded Kavik's mind evaporated, replaced with vicious intensity. It did not matter that the perfume he sensed belonged to a girl who was clearly not a threat: she was an intruder and thus a problem. One Kavik must deal with. He launched himself from the den and hunted the unseen stranger down with frightening accuracy and determination, paws deft as they moved across the damp earth. Soon his glare caught the form of an ebony-and-ivory fae stumbling around, obviously upset. Her bones showed painfully through her soft fur. Frustration and panic shone in coffee-colored eyes. Kavik blinked, killer instinct ebbing.

A questioning growl purred from the lad's throat. For reasons unknown to Queens or Kira, Kavik refused to speak to anyone. He communicated in rare, quiet vocalizations and subtle body language that so far only Kirastasia completely understood. But any wolf would be able to decipher what Kavik was saying now: "Who are you?"