She had lost Chantille somehow within the last stretch of land between some unknown creek and an unknown packs territory border. Now Narimé was wondering if her white friend would catch up with her in the rain. The silver hunter knew well that rain destroys scent trails of the prey she hunted. It was the same for a wolfs scent trail, although the forest of oaks cover should help keep her trail fresh for a few hours while the white healer caught up.
While waiting for Chantille at the packs border Narimé wondered if this family she had come upon Shade or Phineas' pack. There may be many packs out here though not just theirs. the gray fae reminded herself while tentatively stepping up to the border to investigate its scents. With a kick in the gut she realized that there were indeed two scents from pack wolves markings that were familiar to her. A females scent, Jessie Swiftpaw, who was considered a friend, and a powerful male aroma that clearly stated its dominance on the border. Though it took Nari a few minutes of wolf faces going through her head before she matched the face with the scent.
It was a wolf she had not seen since her yearling days. Even now Nari struggled for the name that went with the dark Tainn face. The she wolf had to go through the memory of when she first learned of hellebore. Way back when she had first met Rais who had been pricked by a porcupine. The other males name was....Tainn.. Something Tainn. One of Hotei Tainn's kin.. who was he.. Despite not remembering the name just then it occurred to Narimé that the male she had once met was now an alpha. Or at least the scent markings told her so. She wondered if one of the pack might be willing to send her in the right direction towards Shade's pack.
A howl will also help Chant find her way to me... She shrugged her shoulders quietly then stepped back from the border to be on the safe side. She didn't want to offend the wolves who lived here. Raising her silver crown Narimé let out a howl which echoed through the land around her.
"I ask to meet with you! Please come wolves of the oaks!" Narimé let her call fade until it finally ended. Then she waited, irritated only by the misted rain still falling upon her soaked coat turning it a dark gray color. As much as she loved swimming, rain was not one of the things Narimé liked to be under.