“Vitaliya? What happened?”
-You’re whelp of an Imprint is what happened. I tried to bring her here for you. Ungrateful wench tore into me.-
“Can I help you?”
-Just… stop the bleeding and numb the pain. I’ll be fine.-

He had felt what was happening before he had known. The twisting and turning in his stomach had not been caused by anything around him and could lead him only to one conclusion. Somewhere, Vasily was in danger. He could not tell where, nor who was the cause of her distress. His helplessness once more had him pacing his den in frustration. When his sister showed up at his door his natures struggled to keep himself calm.

Vitaliya’s wounds were mostly superficial, but she would be walking with a limp for a few days. There was something deeper hurting his sister, a wound he could not tend with his herbs and remedies. It was a wound he also felt within himself and one that would bleed for some time. The death of their brother hit them both hard. In one of them the shock seemed to pierce, while the other ripped. Putting his own wounds aside, Myrhh gathered his herbs and set forth to pick his way through Diveen. There were other wounds he knew he needed to tend to.

Careful as ever he was continually growing more and more skilled in being able to find his way through the plateaus of his home. Paws briskly took him over the trails, pads absorbing information his eyes could not. Each step measured the terrain as he moved from land to land. His uncertainty lingered constantly in the back of his mind, but he stuck to the worn packed trails and followed the beating of his soul to keep to the general direction he knew she would be. So much time had been dedicated to learning the layout of Diveen itself, Myrhh had not given heed to the rest of Moaldion. Assuming he would never be able to leave the pack land, knowing he had once believed he would never be able to leave his den. Since he had started training under Meryl he slowly had started to gain his confidence to step back out into the world. The day he met Vasily his interest had shifted to determination. Day by day he had started to learn about the layout of Moladion, trying to commit what he could learn to memory without visualizing or feeling the places. Even if he did not feel the constant pull to wherever Vasily was, he knew Iromar was to the west, on the opposite side of the land. With a heavy sigh, he picked up his pace. With Vitaliya’s wound being what they were, he was concerned about the blood Vasily had spilled.

On the border of the moors, Myrhh stopped when he felt the terrain start to sink beneath his paws. Mud started to squish up between his toes. He dropped his satchel and sniffed at the mud. This was definitely a place that was strange for him, but he had smelled it on the fur of his Imprint. Sightless eyes matched the fog around him, his face instinctively moved around try to see through the shadows. Myrhh lifted his head and called calmly to his Imprint. He knew she was here, but he would not be able to find her if she did not tell him where she was.