Sága watched him bristle at her question, and forced her ears to flicker back in response. If she had taken the time to consider the question before it left her lips, she might have understood the reaction, but unfortunately she hadn't. Whether it be her gesture, or something else, his fur seemed to return to it's place, flat against his back, and his words held no malice. Taking that as a sign, she allowed her ears to swivel foreword once more, taking in each and every word as he spoke them, hoping that somehow it might help her find her family.
Regrettably, his words did nothing to soothe the ache that roiled through her stomach, replacing the hope that had so briefly filled it. "I'm sorry." She dipped her head ever so slightly, knowing now how it felt to.. not know. "I don't know. They weren't with me in the.. the thing..." Her words trailed off, but she knew he would understand. She hadn't a word for the silver pen they held her in, though Sága had been there such a short time, and her brain had been so foggy that she could have missed them. "I was alone at the time, but they weren't too far away.." Maybe she was giving herself too much hope. Half a day's travel away from the den could just have been too far.