Just where the hell is he?

The blind she-wolf lay boredly in her hidden den, swiping her tail on the wooden floor to clear away stray pieces of hay. She could smell so many scents--her various berries and herbs stocked away in a hole in the floor, the woody smell of the barn that she so enjoyed, and the scents of her comrades and leader. The wolf pack alpha had been here recently, had had a heated conversation with Gaoth. There was the faint smell left over by their former prisoner (whom she'd never quite liked, despite his submissive demeanor), and the scents of the foxes and Fern. She shifted in her den, realising she hadn't seen the odd wolf in a while.
She took another long whiff, and remembered--Lynx. Her travelling companion was nowhere to be found. She jumped out of her den carefully, cursing to herself for being so careless. He had been her eyes for so long. She took a deep, long whiff of the air, nosing her way out of the barn. A tiny trace of his scent had to be somewhere--she wouldn't forgive herself if something had happened to him. With all the drama going on in the packs, she feared the worst.

Lynx swore angrily at himself. A trickle of blood ran down his leg. He'd got a splinter in it, but hadn't noticed, and it had grown infected. He limped over to the centre of the farm and lay down, thinking about his month-long wandering around town. Had Citali been all right? He expected so. Despite her blindness, she was even more capable of taking care of herself than he was. The proof was in his back leg.