She was not always by the side of her shadow. There were times when she ventured off, but in the end they always ended up meeting together again as fire and shadow. She was driven away for other reasons, an urge to find those who caused blood and suckled at her teat long ago. She had went to where the one who breathes often lingered, and she searched for him. She searched and she searched, amber red eyes leering around every corner and sniffing all around.

In the end, she found him, and in the end, she felt a sort of mixture of rage and need for comfort. She had identified the scent of the other wolf who was on the pelt of her blood and flesh, and she would memorize it for the rest of her life. The lady of flare and flame moved with a quick and wild grace as she followed the trail, her heart feeling like it was jumping up and caught in her throat. She did not understand her feelings, and could not comprehend what happened. All she knew is that her jaw wished to crush the one who touched her son.

Yet her travel was interrupted by another scent. It was a scent that caused her to stop in her tracks. Her eyes lifted, and she absorbed the surroundings. The alignment of trees. The position of rocks. She needed to remember this spot, to come back to the trail, and due to her lack of vocal ability, her brain became excellent at identifying her surroundings and knowing exactly where she was. Her sense of direction was impeccable, and she knew she could find the trail again.

Although the reason for her travel this way was for some sort of bloodlust, she had another instinct that boiled inside of her once Raven's scent tangled into her nares. Her scent had been mixed in the caves before, and her meeting with the scent had led to a sort of motherly drive. She knew she had to ensure her safety, to ensure this one was alive and well. She snorts, her long elegant limbs dashing forward in a touch of a panic. She moves with purpose, like a flame-licked ghost breaking through brush and leaves. The sound of a whimper barely brushes against her ears, and she immediately adjust and pivots her positioning towards it.

After only moments, she was there, and the fierce lady gave pause as her eyes sweeped over Raven. She was on the ground, and her scent was not as it should be. There was something...odd, and she simply stood and stared with her eyes naturally red and harsh looking, surrounded by her black eye liner. A whine of her own erupted into the silent winter air. She paced back a forth for a moment, red and black furs on her form coming into view with each adjustment. After a few paces, she pauses again, before she simply moves to Raven, her head lowering to sniffer her- taking her in with scrutinizing eyes, feeling conflicting instincts. The shadow would not approve, he would either snap or ignore, but she felt something different, something driven by her own grief. Her tongue reaches out, to lick her directly on the forehead before coming around, laying parallel to Raven head to head, her right leg wrapping around her in a sort of hug as she begins to attempt to lick and groom behind her head and ears....just as she used to do to those that bore her blood.