So many bodies to protect, so many patrols to make, so many mouths to feed. All the duties were the same, but amplified, the potential for failure a bomb which clamped down around his heart and threatened to destroy everything should it go off. His successes were not successes, they were his job description. There was no winning this war. Either he continued to fight, or he lost. He wore the long-healed wounds from his fight with Rhysis, a victory, but a necessity. They did not fill him with pride, only the knowledge that he had done as he was supposed to. Every dead creature brought back to the caches, for his allies to eat, was doing as he was supposed to. Every tree marked, every loiterer chased away, every night when he subconsciously did a headcount and was able to let out a breath he had been holding all day.

He had been holding that breath for two days now.

Rissa, free spirit, empty head but full of heart. He loved her as he loved all the Tainns who had ever been under his care, without hesitation. The heartbreak of Torrel's absence still haunted the pack, but they were growing past it, looking forward. They still had Aiyana and Rissa, Kisla and Fenru, testaments to the pack's strength, to their future. He had thought that, moving into winter and with their youngest members reaching more adult sizes, he would be able to worry about them just that little bit less. Forced to grow up just that little bit faster by their father's failings, he hoped they would practice caution at all times, just try and be sensible. Aiyana's silent frustrations were not always well hidden, and Rissa's foolish abandon brought him his doubts, but surely, surely...

Rissa had not been there that night, and the breath had not been allowed out. He had not scented Indru, but by the time his searching had uncovered the girl's most recent scent, the snow had begun to fall. The fact that Aiyana left a trail in the same direction would have calmed him but for the obvious time discrepancy. It was painfully obvious that sister was tracking sister.

It was not until he realised that Rissa had not been alone did his lungs fill up, never to empty again. Memories of a female come to harass Kisla flashed before him, but it was not the same wolf - though it did not matter. A blind grief fell upon him just like the snow fell upon the ground, covering tracks and scents alike, obliterating his hopes of chasing after them. He could try, he could run and run and never stop until he found them, but he had followed that path before. He had come crawling to Corinna's doorstep after being drawn after an absent Indru, and only to find that the Tainn had reached the grove before him anyway. Running blind would help nobody. For all his love for the girls, his place was here. They would be back. He would have all of Swift River alert for them, and they would be back before anybody knew it. It was hardly the first time he had found their trails leading off beyond the territory - but his gut was twisted and clenched, and Marsh always trusted his gut.

When her sweet voice rang out, he nearly collapsed in relief. His day-old breath was released.

It was premature.

As fast as he could move he was with her, tail high and wagging with the pleasure of having her home safely, eyes wide as they passed over her - healthy, in one piece, all as it should - and then... to the empty space beside her. And on the other side. And behind her, and everywhere. Alone? She was alone?

Then he saw the look in her eyes... the lack of look. The bomb around his heart tightened, counted down. No. Indru had not been here, he... winter was coming, they... Corinna, she...

Never to breath again, he stepped forward to tuck his chin over the arch of her neck, tugging her close to him, a soft growl helpless in his chest as he refused to acknowledge the news that she had brought. The news that she was drowned in, stood here alone and empty, him with the memory of her scent chasing Rissa's, chasing the stranger, the stranger, the stranger.

It was his fault. He had not been there to protect her. It was his fault.

For the past couple of days Fenru had barely slept. His patrols, though routinely and observed with strict timing, left his senses heightened to a somewhat unnatural degree. Rissa and Aiyana had left Swift River territory and since he had been made aware of their absence, the yearling could not focus on anything else. Every bump in the night, every snapping of a twig, every sudden flight of a bird, and every rustle of leaf and grass alike made him jump. Not only would he flinch, but he would immediately scan the area, look toward where the sound had come from, then quickly search his surroundings for a flash of mottled fur or the glimmer of brilliant golden eyes again black fur.

Slumped against one of his usual resting spots, Fenru had been nodding off when her howl reached his ears and pierced through the haze that had begun to hinder his senses. The instant he recognized her voice, his limbs propelled him forward. No distance in that moment could have been greater between him and his baby sister. I'm coming! he mentally hollered. There was no time to lose; the log that he usually would have sprinted around was jumped over and the small dips and depressions in the forest floor were ignored completely, either leapt over or ignored for the convenience of even ground.

When his trail merged with Marsh's path, he did not slow down until he saw the River Leader with his own eyes. Eagerly he strode forward, reading Marsh's body language as he stood briefly to one side, watching as he tried to draw Aiyana closer to him. Fenru's brows furrowed and concern distorted his features. No blood was scented but no other distinct scents tainted the air either. So, what was wrong?

His fiery eyes stared and stared until it clicked. Just like that Fen strode past Aiyana and Marsh, his footfalls destroying the path that his sister had made in the snow on her way home. A meter, then two... three... five... a sidestep to the right, a glance to the left... Nothing but the scent of fresh snow and a hint of the pack's signature aroma. "RISSA?!" his alto voice breaking the silence around him. He waited for a 'Right here!' or the simple vocalization of any kind in reply.

Again, silence. Just the whisper of winter - snow, frost, and the occasional whistle of the icy winds.

His mouth twisted into a grimace, but he did not turn back just yet. The ears atop his head lowered and it took several attempts until he could compose himself. With tired, shaky steps he made his way back to where Marsh stood, keeping just enough distance between them to be within reach but out of the way. He craned his muzzle downward in order to see his sister's face. He wished he hadn't. Her blank, unseeing eyes brought back the memory of Prosper, left alone, lifeless, and wide-eyed under a thin blanket of dead leaves; and, he had to turn away. Unsure of what to do, he merely stood by, offering what comfort he could by just being present and grateful for Aiyana's return.