Good help was hard to find though, and this required her to push otherwise retired limbs to the end of their limitations. Searching high and low for a man she despised more than the mate she had secretly had slain, a son she no longer knew the scent or the sight of. The two had been estranged for so many years, who could say how the boy might have changed. He could have turned colour for all Avari knew. He could have lost an ear, he could have lost an eye. The only thing she knew with any kind of certainty was that his name was still the same.

The coursing river nearby deafened her to many of the sounds she might have otherwise heard, but there was a thirst for water she needed to satiate before she could keep towards fulfilling her thirst for blood. Years ago she'd have been more able to traverse the terrain and make it to the stream, but she lacked a confidence in her older and more frail body that kept her forward and in search of more gradual slopes towards the water.

Without the reliability on her ears, the dependence was on her nose. Cool air made a harder strain on her body, but it bettered her ability to breathe in the surrounding scents. The richness of trees and falling leaves, and for some reason an unusually thick smell of foxes. It had been like that everywhere of late. She'd begun to think they were following her, and considered starting her own little cull of the pesky little demons.

As she breathed so too did she catch the scents of many wolves. Some stronger than others, enough that she might have considered a pack nearby. All the more reason for her to stay on her course. If her son was part of a pack it was a foolish idea to think that they would be too pleased with her intentions. One scent was fresh. One male was near, but she could not give chase with her feet, thus she called forward with her voice.

"Oh strong and handsome man!" Obviously there was no way for her to know the condition of this stranger without first laying eyes on him, but she'd become too familiar with flattery as a means of getting the attention she so desired. "Won't you stop and help an old lady cross the street?!" Maybe, just maybe if she made it sound as though she was in some kind of trouble, this unfamiliar male might feel an obligation to come and at least investigate her shouting.

Still he came to her - they always came. Her smile was soft, but the arrogance had dropped away, the last thing she wanted was to be drawn into a fight, especially with a male who was younger, presumably more able than she. Far from decrepit, Avari was still at the age where she was more intent to swallow her pride and walk away than risk a fatal injury in battle.

This, however, was not an attack. The other stopped his stride some distance away, and shot a question that seemed to come out of nowhere. So far from home? How would he have known, had it been so long since she'd come across another that she no longer held a single foreign scent in her pelt? Clearly, she had some work to do on the matter of making acquaintances.

"What brings anyone to leave their home?" Answering a question with a question, a typical reaction meant to make it seem like she had some kind of control over the situation, and she met her own response with what looked like a shrug. "Boredom, hunger, intent, desperation." In the most roundabout way possible, she answered his question, without it ever sounding like she was.

"Maybe a little bit of everything." If that wasn't a hint, and her voice changed tones to imply as much, then she wasn't sure what more she could do to answer with any sort of subtlety. "I could ask you the very same."

"I have been looking for someone, who I have not seen in many years." Names were a risky thing to give up so easily, and while she was not adverse to taking her chance some days, something of amusement had her feeling like playing things a bit more underhanded than simply spitting Kjors' name at the first opportunity.

"A boy..." the day she considered Kjors' to be a man was the day she jumped from a cliff "...a small boy. Golden eyes, and fur that looks like mud." Had she known that he was missing an eye she might have pointed it out, but as it stood the trauma had taken place after their last encounter.

"And he..." she stopped to laugh, like she was remembering a fond companion "...he used to speak in a way that sounded... it sounded rather dumb." There was no better word for it, the man spoke like his father - with an accent that was entirely befitting of their intelligence.

"Poison!" She barked a sound of laughter at the irony in his choice of words... or was it perhaps a slip of the tongue? She had tried to kill Kjors with poisons, so slowly and so painfully... Maybe this was no foe of his, maybe this was an ally - someone who knew the story and was willing to side with the wrong individual.

"This... this man... not that I would call him as such... slew my son." Friend or not she would try to turn the tables in her favour, the mere mention of the misdeed causing a visible shiver to run down her spine as fur bristled not with aggression but rather discomfort. The deep rooted anger had been rotting her inside for so long, pushing her to make the decisions that she had. Kill the bastard or die trying.

"All I need is a brave, handsome male..." and it was only in her eyes that she flirted with almost no subtlety. "To point me in the right direction... without ever telling me his name... or where he lives... or with whom he might be associated." There had yet been no exchange of pleasantries or names, a deliberate tactic on her part to free her company of any association with her. Kjors couldn't possibly force anything out of her if she didn't know the details to begin with.