It had been some time since Nathaniel had seen his children - any of them, for that matter. He had encountered his lone daughter, Aurelia, once, smelling of her family and the free lands. He could recall vividly the way her mismatched eyes had widened when she noticed him, entire frame going still. She’d grown like a weed since the last time he had saw her, resembling his mother more and more from her fox-like features to the mocha mask across her eyes. The girl had stared at him as if she’d seen a ghost, her frown nearing a scowl the longer they stood there. She’d ended it by simply saying, “Nathaniel,” in a short, clipped tone and then made her leave without any other fanfare. Her attitude had seemed cavalier, considering their relationship, but he was also unaware of whatever situation had drawn her and her family out of Spirane, so he was in no position to judge. Still, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to speak for him, yet worry for her and her brother’s still gnawed at him. He knew how dangerous the loner lands could be - it made him sick enough knowing that his boys were out there.

He’d spent a good portion of winter scouring the free lands in search of the duo - and found neither hide nor hair of either one. It was equal parts frustrating and worrying to not know where his children were. The trio had always been close, but after the sibling had hit their two year mark, they’d gotten much more independent. By their third birthday, both males had found homes away from their father. Call it empty-nest syndrome, but Nathaniel was always keen to see them. Komarin had dropped off the face of the planet for all Nathaniel heard from him, which did nothing for the bundle of nerves in his chest relating to his sons. Tychon, on the other hand - Nathaniel hadn’t needed to hear that the scrappy male who had gotten into a fight in the woodlands had a split mouth to know it was his son. Call it fatherly intuition that he’d known it was the older of the duo getting himself into something.

So he’d headed that way, only to be lead to Spirane’s borders by the aggression-laden scents of Tychon and another male. That was where he stood now, firey orbs peering contemplatively at the mountains before him. He was under the impression that his son had been stolen, and it filled him with bemusement. He could only imagine how the boy had reacted to that, and it probably wasn’t the quietly fuming manner in which Nathaniel had responded to his own capture. The man snorted out a laugh to himself and then tipped his head back to release a short call for his son, falling silent a few moments later.