There was an inexplicable pain, a twist in her stomach as the call arose. She hadn't expected it so soon, especially not in her current state, but duty called, and she had already responded to the request several days prior. She bit back a snarl at fate laughing at her expense. Still, she couldn't fault the woman for being eager to find her children. Despite the edge, she felt like she was walking on the dark woman moved silently towards the call that had reached her ears, no matter the case, she must face them both at some point, though at a juncture when business and vulnerability mixed was certainly not her ideal. She wasn't certain if more than those mentioned in passing were going, but perhaps if she stayed close to the woman, there would be no bickering.

Her stomach knotted together as she approached the woman who called. It seemed that at least she had been the first to arrive. She speaks as she steps into the space near the patchwork woman; I don't suppose we have properly been introduced. Call me Amphora or Neith. Whichever suits you best. Did you have a route in mind? Have we acquired any leads? Despite the hammering of her heart against her ribs, the woman could at least maintain some sort of professionalism. If nothing else, she could wear a hell of a mask when it was necessary. After all, they needed to find the children, the leader and the woman requested that any personal matters could wait. She did, however, warn Jaxxon about Azalea and her children and the desire for him to find them.

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— artwork: Ulfeid3 ·
Common Speech Coptic Speech

skill: cartographer

It was hard to put eyes on Amunet, yet in the position which Ezra was in and given that their pups were, after all, family, he could hardly object the request. He was also of high ranking, a showing of his loyalty and service to the pack and it certainly helped that Jaxxon was well aware of his travels between Mistveil and Northfall even at an early age. A navigator that would be certain to keep the hunting party on the right track. His grievances towards the Egyptian mystic would have to be pushed aside - further than they had already been pushed, I guess.

As he arrives, his eyes sweep the three women, purposefully quickly as he does so. A silent nod of greeting to Snuh and then he turns to Saga lastly. Bloodied eyes meeting the vibrant red of her own. Jeg er her for deg. (I am here for you.) His ears sweeping back, brows knit, his stern expression more so as he readied for the mission. Where will be our first heading? He would see it that she get there.

Skill:

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Abaddon had gotten a little nap in, his sleep schedule flipped from the others, so when the call came out he was grumpy, he was tired, but he was ready he supposed.

Grunting the male lifted his large form and padded his way to the origin of Saga's song. He'd met her once, only once, before and he'd thought about pushing her off a cliff. Perhaps this time would be different with her in a position of power? As he trotted the boy shrugged off the thought and came to the small group.

Stopping he dipped his head to Ezra, Amunet, Saga and the large one he didn't know in greeting. Silently he stood awaiting direction from the leader of them all.

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The howl carried through Mistveil like wind moving through ancient trees, rising over the low clouds and drifting through the mountain valleys below. Melanthe’s ears immediately lifted toward it from where she had been resting near the den Jakten had given her.

Her body had grown heavy now.

Very heavy.

The pups had settled low enough that every movement had become slow and deliberate, her swollen stomach pulling against her once effortless gait. They would come soon—she felt it in the aching weight in her body, in the quiet shifts beneath her ribs, in the instinctive awareness humming somewhere deep inside her.

Still, curiosity pulled at her.

Slowly, Melanthe rose and began making her way toward the gathering.

Mist curled around her long legs as she walked, charcoal-and-gray fur brushing softly against the cold air. Fresh traces of Jakten lingered within her coat now, mingled with mountain air and pine. She still wasn't accustomed to carrying the scent of a pack with her.

Not after so many years alone.

As she approached, yellow-green eyes quietly studied those gathered. Saga and Snuh she knew. The others she did not.

So many wolves. So many voices.

Melanthe slowed slightly at the edge of the gathering, uncertainty flickering across her expression as she quietly watched them greet one another and prepare.

Then her eyes settled on Saga.

Leaving. Traveling. The realization brought an unexpected ache to her chest. For a brief moment, something inside her pulled toward it instinctively—the endless roads, distant mountains, unfamiliar scents carried on changing winds. Traveling had been her life. It had been purpose. Movement had always felt as natural as breathing.

A part of her wanted to follow.

Wanted to walk beside them into distant places and lose herself to wandering paths once again.

But her gaze lowered toward her stomach.

No.

Her children would arrive soon.

She could not run roads anymore.

Not now. Not when the last hope of her people rested beneath her heart.

Quietly Melanthe moved closer toward Saga, taking care not to disturb the gathering too much. Her movements remained hesitant around larger groups, but Saga had become familiar—a rare thing for Melanthe.

As she reached her, her eyes briefly searched the smaller woman's face before lowering again.

Saga...? she asked softly. Her voice almost disappeared beneath the mountain breeze. For a moment she hesitated. Sadet's face surfaced in her thoughts—the grey fur, blue eyes, silent understanding shared between two wandering souls who had spent too much of their lives alone.

Her chest tightened. She did not know whether he had survived. Did not know if death had brought him here as it had somehow brought her. And if she truly stood here with their children still living within her, then perhaps the cycle had ended. Perhaps there had been no rebirth. That the centuries and centuries of war, turmoil and strife against the Wyrm and the Weaver had truly been for nought. Perhaps there would be no more Silent Striders after them.

Melanthe swallowed quietly.

But still, she had hope.

If... Her ears lowered slightly. If you see a grey wolf with blue eyes during your travels who is named Sadet.. She looked down toward her stomach as the pups shifted beneath her. Please tell him... Her voice softened further. Tell him I am alive. A small pause. Her paw rested gently against the curve of her belly. Tell him the children are okay.

For a moment Melanthe simply stood there quietly, eyes fixed on her pups as though imagining someone very far away hearing those words.

If he desires to come with you to see me and the children…please let him.

Talking to Saga but Snuh Abaddon Amunet Ezra can see and hear her!

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