There had been a second scent at the smith’s residence, one which Byakko had, for a time, not put much thought toward. Her focus had been….shattered; she had allowed herself to remain in an area of conflict for too long, and War had taken over, leaving her in a state which was volatile, challenge-seeking, bloodthirsty. Peace had not returned to power until she was met with Niulang Altair of the Aquarian stars; admittedly she felt great embarrassment for her composure, but there was no...time for her to think back on mistakes. Her actions had resulted in the death of Adrian Smith. He had left behind a cub of his own.
That cub needed to know the truth.
Byakko did not waste her time returning to that place, travelling in the form of the great white tiger himself; it was faster this way, and as she was, she was not sure that she could claim herself above any others so as to keep her true form hidden. She followed the scent of Adrian until she reached that of his cub - the one whom he had taken under his wing. She knew no more than that - only that this cub belonged to the man whose blood was on her hands. She may not have taken his life directly, but his death was faulted to her. She had misjudged; she had believed that she could handle the face of conflict - but instead she had felt rage enough to awaken the beast. The plan had been simple; she would return to Adrian and retrieve him along with her cub. But War….had taken over before she could make such an attempt.
His death had been her fault. She, then, would be the one to tell his cub.
She had followed his scent to what appeared to be the very same residence which she had found Adrian in. It now had the scent of another, of the cub. There was yet a third scent, one which wafted with the cub; it was the scent of another human, one possessed of powerful magic. The cub, at least, was not left alone during this time. But by now, he very likely worried for the status of the Smith.
Byakko shifted forms back into the human woman - no cub would respond well to being approached by a great white tiger. She stood at the door, hesitating only a moment before she entered, heedless of whether she was invited or not. She sought the cub, eyes upon him, quietly judging. ”Are you the cub of Adrian Smith?”
About her neck, she still wore the necklace of white jade, upon which she had added the stone given to her by the smith. She would return it here, to the boy, if he was indeed the cub.