During his brief time in Moladion, he had begun to learn about their... structures, he supposed. He still felt rather hesitant to be in such a place but he had made an efforto fit in more, or at least as much as he could. He learnt to smell like them, where to hunt and where to sleep so as to not bring attention to himself. He still couldn't work out where exactly to go, though. After all, he did desire to return to where he had come but... where was it? His scent had faded from the outskirts and his memory was too shrouded to remember the exact scenery. Truly, he had become stuck.

He ambled on, though, seeking yet another place to make camp for the night. He had begun to head towards the mountain that loomed in the distance but on closer inspection, it reeked of a pack. He remained adamant that he would not turn to a pack, desperate to keep his honor even in this far away place. The mountain had, however, lead him into the Crags, a labyrinth of towering stone that reminded him, somewhat, of his origin. He wondered if he could perhaps follow the terrain to find his way back - he could not help but smile weakly at the thought. If only things were that easy.

As he steps through to a clearer area, his eyes instantly fell on the flaming fur of another. For a moment, he stopped himself mid-stride, staring on as she tore into the flesh of a goat. Then, it struck him - he knew that fur, that face, even that particular way of hunching over a kill. Had one of them come so far south? Sucking in a breath, he rose to his full height and stepped forward, electing to confront her directly rather than try to sneak. He spoke loud, glaring into her with those stone cold eyes.

"Did you steal this from some unsuspecting folks?"