A cold, wet nose ringed in chestnut lowered to the ground, nostrils flaring wide as he sniffed at the thin layer of melting snow. A single golden paw, such a drastic contrast to the chocolate and russet hues of his snout, came forward to scratch at the earth. It took only a couple of swipes to clear the slush from the spot, revealing the first green sprouts of grass that were shielded beneath winter's receding cover. Pale yellow eyes cared not for this first sign of the coming spring, seeming to search the ground for something that could not be seen as his nostrils flared wide, inhaling repetitively as he sniffed the patch over and over again.

It was a fruitless effort. Dashing his paw into the slush he cast it back over the coming grass, pushing his body away from the spot as his brows stitched together in frustration. Turning away, his head lifted only slightly as he moved off towards the lake. What had he expected? It had been months since he'd caught the barest whiff of Paravana's scent there, and it and the paw print that had went with it had long since faded. He refused to give up, refused to believe that he might never find his sister. It was the reason he had not crossed into Diveen since his father had claimed his rightful place as its King. Lifting his head, Atlas gazed out across the fields to the east. He had wandered close enough to learn of his younger siblings' births. His parents were clearly comfortable enough in their reign to have another litter. It would be easy to simply slink home and fall under the care of his parents once more. After all, what was there keeping him out here anymore?

Paravana was, he told himself. Lowering his head so that it was even with his topline he jogged along the edge of the lake. It had warmed up enough that dark spots across the ice warned of how thin it had become. Soon it would break up and the water would be accessible once more. Another year had come and gone, and he was no closer to finding his sister. And he was alone. Ears pressed back against his skull at the thought, a terrible feeling gripping his gut that he had done so well to repress over the winter. He didn't want to admit that he missed Fiammetta, but it was undeniable. His travels often brought him back to places they had shared - the pool at the crags, the abandoned set along the Aplos River, he'd even wandered along the border that Enocra Woodland shared with Asteraia - but she was nowhere to be found. She'd all but disappeared. Just like Paravana. Was he so complete of a failure that he could not save either of them from whatever kept their scents from gracing the freelands? As muscular limbs pulled him further along the lakeshore, he could not think of anything to dispute such a fact.