Time had stolen too much from the demon; the lives and memories of his growing daughters, the sharp recollection of his fallen angel's face, the remembrance of the warmth of his bloodless sister. The three most precious things in his life had been sucked away by the merciless turning of time. Could he still remember the smell of her? The way her carmine locks looked on early mornings when he would greet her with a smile and a loving touch? It had been so, so long. Had she found love? Perhaps...started a family? The mere notion of little red-maned sleuths running around made his heart ache. Tolio wasn't sure if it was in desire, or nostalgia. Why did the thought of her being with someone make him want to gnash his teeth and rip apart the ground? He did have rather strong brotherly tendencies when he'd left...had the reawakened violence within him strengthened it too much? Would she willingly bare his protective urges, now that they were likely to be near-smothering? Not that he'd know any time soon. His beloved Thief was missing, or at least no hide nor hair had been seen of her through his eyes since his return. It made the worry only increase tenfold, and he had taken to pacing the entirety of the herdlands before retiring, for it often took all of the daylight hours to scour the snow for a sign of her.

Nobody seemed to know where she'd gone, and it infuriated him. Did nobody care where his beloved sister was? He swore that if he found out anything about her disappearance being unwanted or forced, he would shake the earth with his rage and destroy the scumbag that dared to touch a hair on her precious head.

As if sensing his mounting worry the Gods smiled down on him that night, and with an increased state of agitation, he followed the gut instinct inside of him. Tolio had no idea it pertained to Faelene, but the tugging could not be ignored. Prowling like a bloody panther he stalked into the twilight, aurals twitching and plume slashing violently through the air. Sharply his hooves strike the stone beneath, clattering loudly through the air, not desiring to slip unseen or unheard. In his anger, frustration, and worry, he didn't give a damn if he woke someone up. Let them face him, he would take joy in breaking the horns from their brows and skewering them with each one. Nobody took his sister away from him, nobody placed her in danger, and nobody ever, ever dared to tell him they 'didn't know' where she was.

Lo and behold, though, his luck seemed to have finally smiled down upon him. Last he'd seen of a friendly face it had been by the pools, when he'd encountered Illynx. Was it recollection that drew him there? Or was it that Faelene was still, always and forever, the North on his compass? Whatever it was, fate or grand design, when he spied a dark form slowly slipping towards the warm pool, his heart leaped in his chest. Please be her, he begged, something that would never pass his lips aloud anymore, but something he would indulge in so long as it brought her safely back to his side. I never should have left, he growled to himself, furious once more that he had been so weak.

Drawing himself closer, he dared to breathe her name, hope clogging his throat with emotion and distress. Faelene? Moonlight shone down, just a sliver, and her flaming mane became clear. Choking he ran for her, extending his legs with every bound in hopes to speed himself further. He just needed to be near her once more, take in her smell, her form. He had missed her beyond measure, beyond word. Faelene! My sister you have returned! Joyously he skidded to a stop at her side, extending his muzzle eagerly for her touch. Abruptly he stopped, muscled body going rigid like a statue, and cold mercury eyes narrowed on healed injuries. Fresh, healed injuries. New skin had grown over, but it was obvious in comparison to the weathered expanse of her skin, and the clear signs of it being recent set his blood aflame.

Who harmed you? he growled, crown tipping in automatic offense, horn gleaming like a deathly blade of ivory ready to be stained with the blood of the bastard who had dared to mar her skin. Who touched you, Faelene? I swear, I will rend them limb from limb, I will drain each drop of blood from their body for doing this to you, he cursed, venom dripping from every syllable. How dare they hurt her?! His joy over seeing her again was abruptly squashed for favor of bloodlust, and he hoped he had not startled her with his outburst.

@[Faelene]