The vixen was heavily in heat, it felt like it was rolling off her in waves, she was frustrated and desperate. Never a good combination in the woman; there was one thing she craved above all else right now. But Levi had been distant for a while now, he wouldn't tell her why though; not that he ever did. He was a man of action, not of words and she had little to go on, only the scent of their sister faint but distinct on his pelt when she had first noted his distance gave her any hint of what might have happened. Some part of her feared the worst, she'd been replaced. Even their bond as twins hadn't been strong enough to keep his interest and she could feel her dreams of the family they'd raise together slipping through her grasp. Mammon was wound up in her thoughts, feeling the need to escape from the place she and her family had taken up. In the end she had gone further than intended and when she spotted the three islands off the coast some nostalgic part of her had driven her to swim to the nearest and largest one. But in the end she was dissatisfied, this island did nothing to help elevate her fears, it was simultaneously too similar and nothing like the island she and her brother had shared, it left her feeling nothing but more frustration; though of a different kind. "Sweet nothings" & Dangerous thoughts

Leaving Thisbee alone made the rogue nervous, he didn’t want to leave her- not after just being reunited with her and especially since they had lost her mother recently. She was all he had, but the need to fill their bellies with more than small doves drove him to hunt larger game. None of which was on the bird island. Thus, he had made the swim to a large island with a peak in its center. While he prowled through the dense jungle in search of larger game, he caught the scent of a female in heat. Instinct caused him to stop in his tracks; head turning in the direction the scent came from, ears going forward.

Follow it. Instinct would tell him. Yet, he hesitated. Relenting, he finally moved in the direction the scent came from. He would eventually find the female and again he would stop. Morals and sorrow would fight against instinct. This was not his mate. Yet, they looked so similar. It wouldn’t be hard to convince himself, but finally Razik would shake his head roughly. This was not Dahlia. Dahlia was dead, because of him. A heavy sigh would release his caught breath as he moved forward. “Aren’t you worried about being taken advantage of?” He voiced, hoping not to startle the black and white she-wolf. To further show he was no threat, he would stop several feet away, reclining back onto his haunches in a sitting position. He would mind his manners.