The ghost couldn’t agree with his raven sidekick more. He had felt guilty at the time, for leaving Pitch Pine. For leaving Karpos. But both he and Anastasia knew that they couldn’t stay there any longer. After Shade’s death, the trail no longer felt like home to the duo, even with the Slayer children still present. The pack was crumbling and the pair did not want to be around for its demise. So, they fled, seeking refuge among Darkwater before a flood took that home away from them. If it had not been for Maksim he would not be here, now, reminiscing with Inna. The agouti king had changed his life for the better; Lachesis would always remain loyal to the older wolf.

“I do too,” he responded, absently, to Inna’s comment. Ana would certainly be happy to see how well Lachesis was doing—and shocked. Never did XIX expect to be in the position he was now in, even if it was only temporary. He had come so far since the blue-eyed dove had last seen him. The ghost did not even know if she would recognize him if she ever returned to the Lore. Despite the time that had passed after her second disappearance, he still hoped to see her return to Hearthwood. It did not feel the same without her—he did not feel the same. She was the world to him and he did not think he would ever stop missing her.

His shoulders rolled softly, toes curling into the dirt as he began to realize how stiff he was. Lachesis nodded softly at her words, a smile toying with the corners of his lips. “You’re going to be an excellent scout,” he commented after she spoke, his head tilting to the side as he studied her. “How about we go for a patrol—maybe see if we can turn it into a hunt?” He did enjoy the young Baranski’s presence and would like to continue their conversation. He stood, suddenly, his forelegs stretching out before him as he motioned for the little raven to follow him. “Come,” he said with a flick of his nose as he stepped in the direction of their borders. The healer did not wait for a response, for he knew she would follow. He plunged into the trees, his tall frame weaving expertly between them.