Echo was sitting by herself in the centre of camp, an odd glean to her eyes. She seemed to be in deep thought, yet her stoic expression always threw people off so to speak. The young wolf seemed to whisper something to herself as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Then stared off into the forest, peering at something in the shadows. Seraph looked on from the entrance of the den, and he felt like the wound that exposed all of his left teeth was burning. The scar that curved along all the way to his neck also feeling on fire. He winced, head bowing low as he took a calming, but shaky breath.<br/><br/>"You can smell them in the wind!" Echo suddenly called out in the middle of camp "The stench, the acrid smell of that red flower turning petal less, the suffocating iron that chokes me and my sibling! the very grass!" she said, rising in volume. Seraph not surprised by her outburst exited the den, walking up beside her and hugging her close with his shoulder as she sat there, sides heaving as she took unsteady breaths. Seraph bowed his head low, obvious sadness in his eyes "Indeed..." was all he murmured silently.<br/><br/>The metallic smell of Blood was in the air...