He stood for a while, tuning out the weight on his shoulders. "Missing." There was something human about the poster, something that becomes so unfamiliar in a family of wolves. The photo stapled on the tree was three years old. He wasn't one for photos after all. Shadow's handwriting was as fleeting as the man himself. Perhaps if he cared more, scourge would have stayed. The name written on the poster began to nauseate him. He tore the photo from the tree.