The man hadn't seen her. Llewellyn, despite having half-expected the reply, couldn't help the bloom of frustration that coiled in his gut. He knows the tundra is vast, but he is nothing if not naive in his hope that someone in this white wasteland had come across her.

Oh. He muttered. A glimmer of disappointment in his pale eyes, as they fell to stare at his snow-clad paws. I dunno where she went...can't remember. Truthfully, he scantly remembered the last time they'd been together at all. He has nothing but his reoccurring nightmare of her running off into the blinding-white, leaving nothing but a trail of crimson blood against the snow.

His stomach lurched at the thought of something having happened to his Ma. She was strong — much stronger than he ever was — but he cannot help but worry.

His ears swiveled, piqued by the man's offer to help his search. He sat up just a little straighter, that flicker of hope reviving just enough to make him eager. Really? You would?

Then, his mother's warning tickled his mind again, and he deflated once more. Timid, cautious. W-Well, my Ma said not to trust strangers...