It has been such a long while since I have graced the lands beyond Glorall's borderlands. It is not for lack of reason but rather, a lack of time. Mother is well now, however, and her children thrive well enough to be left to their own devices. Those within Glorall have seemingly begun to find their own purpose and so, I do not need to linger about like a forlorn caretaker, desperate to find some wolf to fix or direct. It is not that I have an issue with such behavior, it is simply not my own. To be confined in such a way is... unusual, like a constant prickling of one's skin. It is an itch I must satisfy one way or another. It is simply best alleviated with a simple task, like one aimlessly roaming places vaguely foreign beneath the myriad of new scents and sights. With fall, there is plenty of that, after all.

I venture far west this day, reaching the foot of Spirane as the sun rises to its pinnacle. The sky is grey, however, and there are few rays to illuminate the riverside; it sits as an almost idle, black body of water as it slowly cuts its way towards Iromar. The grass is sparse now, dried and turned to dust as the sky threatens to bring snow down upon us all. It is an enjoyable thing, I think, to be in such a different place; Glorall, after all, is unique in its nature and yet, when you are there so often, it becomes the norm. Here, however, reminds me of how desolate and empty this land can become. Though there are scents on the wind, likely blown down from Spirane's steppes, I cannot see or hear any other. That in itself is an odd thing and yet, I shall revel in it for the time being. I have always been solitary at my core, or at least, dependent on few.

I wade into the waters slowly, its cold fingers instantly wrapping around my limbs as it washes against my stomach. It has been so long since I have not smelt like the salt and spores of the ocean and I find comfort in the true freshness of the river. Glorall's own river is brackish at best, the high tide bringing an unsightly hue to its depths more often than not. Here, though, I am able to lap at the water without second thought, its chill refreshing as I allow the slow current to wash through my fur. I am partially submerged now, though I know I cannot stay in such a place for long.

It is when the cloud cover breaks that I take my leave, though I am much less graceful than previously now. My fur is soaked and cling to my body in tufts; I take it upon myself to bask upon the shoreline, lowered onto my side and yet, my eyes never once close. I am always alert, always awake. It is a curse to be such a way, perhaps, and yet I shan't ever let another slip by my guard, or my curiosity.