I have been healing well, and perhaps that has something to do with Hadrian. He is a healer most unusual and yet, the flesh has remained a healthy pink, sealing over with thick strands of scar tissue. There remains a residual ache at its frayed edges, a certain tension when I move my head and yet, there is little room for complaint. It has allowed me to take back to hunting just in time for the coming of Glorall's first litter. We have few dedicated hunters, after all, and so I must take on the role to provide for those who cannot otherwise do so. Though my mother has been... absent, I know her scent lingers with the scent of oncoming childbirth. I shall hunt for her and yet, I cannot help but begrudge the children that dwell within her. Who do they belong to? Was she not content with the children Heyel had given her? In her absence, I can only wonder.

I have taken to eggs this day, however. They are plentiful along the shoreline, hidden away in the reeds that scatter along the dunes or in the stone caverns and peaks. They are, at times, a challenge to obtain and yet, I must seek out challenge if I am to improve my own abilities for the next time a challenger comes to these borders. My paws are scraped from the stone and yet my stomach is full with the thick yolk of sea bird ilk. It is as a break open another egg that an unfamiliar cry resonates across the beach - for a moment, I am taken to pause, my hackles twitching and yet, it rings true. There is no malice nor challenge in such a sound. If anything, there is a certain kind of... sensitivity, I suppose.

I am close to the borders already, having traveled along the coast for some time to mitigate my hunting. As such, I take off towards the cry immediately, swallowing down my meal as I lope onward. I am more comfortable with others seeing me now; I do not need to worry about raw wounds for mine have begun to scab and scar satisfactorily and the stains of blood have begun to wash out of my fur. It is an obnoxious thing to need to worry about such superfluous things and yet, it is all in the name of ensuring those that are outsiders do not believe me to be easy pickings. Even when I find her scent - Taviorian - I do not allow myself to fall into any sense of security. Glorall has no true allies and thus, despite Solaris' presence there, it cannot be said that every wolf under their banner would approach with kind intentions. However, I do my best to appear amiable as I come towards the borders, restraining myself from presenting my rank too highly. Instead, I tread lightly, approaching her forwardly with a tilt of my head.

There is a faint recognition. Her face is not wholly familiar and yet, her blood may be. I do recall Dexter well, and Cozscotl, and it is very much apparent that both share blood. In that case, I am more confident in knowing she likely has not come baring bad news. Slowly, I allow my eyes to fall from her towards the pelt at her feet, a thing that smells entirely like herbs and plants. It is akin to Hadrian's den, though perhaps more pleasant to the nose. I do not know entirely what Hadrian keeps to himself and yet, I am certain it is not all flowers.

I return my gaze to hers, settling into place some feet away before I address her. "I did not expect a visit so soon," I state it simply, shrugging the words away. I suppose it was to be expected that some packs would grow curious of my condition, and perhaps Taviora would be the most logical to do so. Still, it is...unexpected. They have changed leadership, after all, and I do not have such familiarity with their new leader as I did Coszcotl. "What is it that brings Taviora's embassy here this day, I must wonder."