The relief at having Ember back was only short lived. There was only so many times she could ask about the other daughter and only so many times she could bear hearing that the other had not wanted to return. Eventually she had stopped asking, but the awareness festered in her mind. Ember's presence was a balm, and there was most certainly a wound that it was covering.
In the early dawn, Iopah rose from her sleeping place -whispering a promise to return shortly to her daughter- and trotted quietly to the borders. She couldn't just forget about her younger daughter, even if that daughter would rather be elsewhere. Idly she followed the scents, sifting through those of prey and rival predators; there was the occasional scent of a Bend wolf, but none she particularly recognized.
The toppled cedars gave way to crimson ferns before Iopah noticed the direction she had taken. She was well beyond the Pines' land now, but seemingly not alone. There was a familiar scent interlaced with the fronds. Iopah paused and lifted her head, hoping to see Yuka's familiar bulk. She knew so little of him, and without his mother he was nearly a stranger to the Pines' alpha.