"Of course," Balthazar said with a dip of his head.
"We'll go right now. The day is still young, should be there by nightfall." He assured her. He resisted rolling his eyes at her promise of a reward. When was that ever
not a fat stack of lies? It was just one of those things that you offered without really meaning. He was sure if by some freak accident they actually did come across the woman's daughter, she'd have no trouble skipping off with her spawn and forgetting about him, leaving him empty handed.
"Sure, no skin off my back," Balthazar shrugged easily as Deacon asked if he could go. It didn't matter to him, as long as Deacon didn't get in the way. He was sure that in this case, no amount of extra eyes would help. He'd never seen the girl, Joan, before. To be honest, at her age she was probably frozen to death somewhere, or trampled by a deer in youthful stupidity. Valley wolves were as dumb as rocks, they weren't terribly hard to kill and seemed to have no trouble walking into their own deaths if left to their own devices, anyways.
In any case, Balthazar started off. He had no fucking clue where the girl was and frankly didn't give a shit, but that didn't mean he didn't have a destination in mind.
"Oula, is it?" He asked as he walked, having heard Deacon speak the name moments earlier.
"I'm Azar. Azar Hawke." He introduced himself, finding wolves tended to be more cooperative when they had a name to go off of. How easily these fools placed their trust.