Despite the fact that Dirk had more than enough to do to keep him busy in Diveen, there were times where the perpetual haze and red rocks pressed in on him. Today was one of those days and that feeling of confinement ushered him out to the fields. The tall grasses had turned gold in the autumn sun. As the breeze cut through the wide, open field it sounded a bit like the ocean as the grass rustled. Wading into the sea of grass until he was properly surrounded, Dirk closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, lifting his face to the sun. The golden rays highlighted the markings on his face and brightened the rich chocolate of his fur. He stood there like that for several minutes, just letting the sound of the grass engulf him as the wind teased his guard hairs. On days like this he questioned, at least in some part, his decision to follow Arturio to the plateau with all of its shadowed pockets and ravines.

It was strange to think that it had been a full year since he’d arrived in Moladion. A full year since he’d met Siren in this very same field of gold. His face fell away from the sun and his lips curled slightly at the thought of her. She was mad as a jaybird but innocent. He’d not done a particularly good job looking after her as she now found herself a mother, but he would do better by her. Once the fires had died and the pups were old enough to move, he fully intended to press her to leave Glorall. The fact that she did not trust Eden weighed on him. She’d distrusted the wolf so much that she’d tried to run Dirk off Glorall lands to protect him from Eden; at least that was what he’d surmised from her barely coherent display. Sighing, Dirk shook his head and waded further into the field. He would never fully understand Siren, or likely any woman for that matter, but she deserved looking after given what she’d been through and her pups deserved an adult in their lives that was a mite more stable than their Mum.

Feeling the weight of his thoughts affecting his mood, Dirk grumbled under his breath and rolled his shoulders. He’d slipped into the field to get away from the heavy thoughts and pressing confines of the ravine and here he was caught in another thought loop. It always came back to failure. His inability to fully protect those he was sworn to protect. His inability to be what was needed. With a snarl and a snap of his teeth at the nearest stalk of grass, Dirk shook his head violently, trying to break the cyclical nature of his thoughts. Then, as though he needed to physically remove himself from the proximity of those thoughts, he launched into a headlong run through the grass, ignoring the way the stalks stung as they whipped against his face. He had no destination in mind, was simply running in a vaguely Northern direction, skirting around the lake though he had half a mind to charge into the water and create enough noise to drown out the phantom voice that haunted him even now, more than a year later.