He is tired of living this way - thrown away and secluded from the rest of the pack. It is not how he intended to live his life and yet he had let it happen. His fears and lack of certainty isolated him from the rest of the world in a way that nothing else could. He has succumbed to his vice for too long.

This day, in which the spring sun shines brightly upon the river pack, will be the day that he leaves behind his old ways and searches for a new life. His molten eyes glimmer in the faint sunlight that trickles through the branches which hang over his den, unblinking and unaffected by the golden rays. It is this warmth which embraces his face that encourages him to rise to his dirty paws and step from his home. He turns around to tentatively look in the general direction of the space, inhaling the familiar and safe scent that it holds one last time before pivoting to leave.

Large, white paws jog down the pathways which he has driven into the earth over the time of his absence. He remembers every curve and rise of the earth from here to the coast as he had picked out his own trails some time ago. He swallows the anxiety that begins to rise in his throat as he strays further and further from his comfort zone. It had been so long since any of his siblings had sought him out - or anyone for that matter. At this point they may have forgotten he was alive, but it would make no difference to him. They are dead to him; rotten, soulless creatures that they are. With the exception of Abel, the brother which he should have stuck around for. They were alike simply for the fact that they were the scourge of Glorall in their family’s eye. Yet he had abandoned him in his time of need for selfish reasons. He was supposed to be there to protect Abel when needed but he had done nothing but run. He still curses himself for that - for letting the weakness seep in and take charge of his decisions. But that will be no more.

He begins to slow his pace as the scent of the salty air becomes stronger along the river. He remains in the treeline along the banks of the slow moving water but stops to turn perked ears toward it. Someone moves there, their paws shuffling the rocks and sand together as a light breeze swirls through. The scent is familiar enough and yet he is cautious still, not wanting to believe it to be true, as if someone were tricking him into vulnerability. So he stands firm among the shade of the trees, golden eyes aching to peer upon who is there.