Things were...strange in Spirane. Sleekwing did not begrudge Tithe for his newfound position in the mountainous pack, but it did not make it any less odd for the longest tenant of Spirane. On one paw, he was glad for the stagnant rule of Roman to have ended. On the other, his own claim to the leadership of Spirane had been denied; he'd been told that he was not a true member of the mountain pack and could not vie for its throne. Such claims were nothing but ill placed falsehoods, for Sleekwing alone had been a member of the mountainous pack from the day of its founding. He alone remained of what had once been Solevion. Whether Roman had been willing to recognize such loyalty to land and country meant little to Sleekwing. The short-lived king had defeated Daenerys in battle, but proved incapable of doing much more than that. Spirane had grown as quiet as the days of Purge, and in that time the once and forever protector of the mountain had focused his time and efforts on his children. Moonfeather and Israfel were growing fast - it was hard to believe that in a seasons time they would be two years old. He no longer patrolled the borders each morning and night, and the more time he spent in the vicinity of his densite, the more his missed those who had once shared this space with him.

Kiyomi had been gone for a long time now, her scent all but nonexistent within the peaks. Her children, too, had gone their own ways. He felt Malina's absence in the pit of his stomach; she had left when Daenerys had fallen, though she had known that he would not follow. He would never leave the mountains, and he wished to continue to raise their children in the land of his family, even if they had become somewhat disparaged. And then there was the absence of Ailith and her two children, Isaac and Kirsikka. For much of his youngest days Isaac had been like a shadow to the once Castellan, sometimes studying his habits from afar, sometimes mimicking his duties. The two pups had brought joy to Sleekwing's life, and despite the fact that his time was consumed with raising his own children these days, he still wondered after them, hoping that wherever in the world they might be, that they were doing well. It was their mother's absence that worried the male most. For so long she had worked towards a rank in Daenerys' hierarchy, determined to prove her worth despite all that had happened to her. And last winter, when she had been within reach of her goal, she had vanished.

Sleekwing had searched the mountain high and low for her, roaming out into the nearest free lands as well. He felt unsettled about her disappearance, his gut telling him that something had happened to her. But then Spirane had fallen under Roman's rule, and Sleekwing had withdrawn into the mountain, caring for his children and doing little else. And in the aftermath of Daenerys' defeat, perhaps she had just been counted as one of the vast majority that had left the mountain. No one but Sleekwing seemed concerned about her absence. But a year had come and gone, and the brute still felt ill at ease over the situation. He should have done more, gathered a search party with or without the idle ruler's authorization and found a way to bring her home again.

Now, he was taking matters into his own hands. It was probable that Tithe would have sanctioned a search party if Sleekwing had brought the matter to him, but the male felt that the burden now belonged to him alone. He had failed her for so long, it was his responsibility to track her down and learn what had become of his longtime friend. As he passed down through the lowlands of the mountainous realm, he had a fleeting memory of another white shewolf with blue eyes, and the first time she had introduced him to Ailith. His heart clenched as he thought of her, and how he would probably never see her again. She had made her choice, she had chosen her mate, and she had vanished from his life. Shaking his head, he pushed the memory of the friend he had once felt such fond sentiments for aside, focusing on the friend who he instinctually knew needed his help now. Smokey hued paws carried him far and wide, as he scoured the valley for any trace of her scent, then progressed further south as the sun followed its daily path through the sky. He roamed the crags, familiar to him even though he no longer frequented them as often as he had in the years before Daenerys had ascended to power in Spirane. He moved with the ease of a wolf who had served as a vigilant set of eyes for many a year, even if he had been out of work for the past few months.

It was as he reached the foot of the crags that he caught a scent that rang a bell in his mind. His body went rigid, nostrils flaring as he sniffed over the area, flooding his senses with the odor. It was damp, musky, and overlaid with unfamiliar scents, but she was there amongst it all. Ailith. Tail flagging out behind him, Sleekwing jogged with his head low to the ground, following the indistinct and wandering trail as it descended into the grotto. His heart hammered in his chest, mind racing over the possibilities of the other scents that had accompanied her own. The worst thought jumped to the forefront of his mind - was someone holding her hostage? But then again, perhaps she had simply joined a band of loners. After all, she was a strong and capable wolf, it was just as likely of a possibility as any other reason she had never come back to the mountains. Still, the feeling of unease lingered, growing bit by bit the longer he followed her meandering trail. Something was not right.

When he came upon the wide cavern, he paused in the shadows of the tunnel that had led him there. A white wolf paced along the edge of the pool of water, while two pups observed her mannerisms. One was rolled onto her back, seemingly at total ease despite the haggard state of her mother. This couldn't be - she couldn't be Ailith. He'd made a mistake, followed the wrong scent trail, lost hers among the myriad of paws that passed through the grotto. His mind warred with what was right before his eyes, his heart aching at the realization that something truly terrible must have befallen his friend for her to wither away to such a state. And what of the pups? Even in the dim light he could see their strawberry markings, colors that neither Isaac nor Kirsikka had been born with, so they likely did not share a father with these pups. A howl burst forth from the closer pup, and Sleekwing was jolted from his thoughts. Despite having found her, the weight of her disappearance pressed upon his shoulders heavier than ever. Why hadn't he come for her sooner? And so, there was nothing else left to do, than step forward from the shadows and, hoping not to startle his long lost friend, softly call, "Ailith?"