He had few memories of Taviora though he recalled their history like any other; he had neglected himself in that regard, perhaps, to not have spent more time indulging his curiosity about other packs in the past. Now, though, the invitation had been extended and he had been self assured in his decision to attend such an event. In the past, it might have served as the perfect place to scope out the other leaders but now, he had merely grown curious as to what the other wolves of Moladion had become. Things were different, that he knew. He just wanted to know how different.
The festivities had proven...busy. He had found his heart more frantic than usual against his chest; at one point, he had spied Glorall's leader and his leg had quivered with the intention to give out beneath him. He had been quick to rejoin the company of Aster and the others then. But there was another he had found in the crowd of faces that had made the space between his ribs ache: Leviathan. Perhaps it had been her alone that had threatened to bring him to his knees yet, he had grown too tired to run away.
Instead, he had drifted in her peripherals like a ghost; he haunted the corners of her vision until her eyes had moved to meet his. It was then that he moved away from the gathering, slow and steady through the forest as the sun began to set. The sky had begun to deepen to shades of crimson and purple, streaks of orange bursting from the horizon as he moved to a hillside where several trees parted to reveal the sky. Only there did he feel able to truly breathe in, a long and drawn out breath as he fell back onto his haunches. And there he was, a fool who thought he could outrun his ghosts forever.