I tucked myself deeper into the night, every night. Tonight, I'd found myself in the crags, where despite the heat from the days rays on the rocks, it was freezing. Ever since the nefarious Blackthrone had tried to steal me away to his pack, I'd found myself hiding, deeper and quieter than ever before. I'd noticed that being a loner wasn't as safe as I had originally thought it was. But then again, a lot of things I had believed to be one way, was completely wrong. My life wasn't going according to plan, and it felt as if I was loosing this game we call life, and lets face it, no one likes to loose. No one likes their hopes and dreams to go up in smoke. So, I'd rather not loose what little hope I had for the good in the world. But lets face it, most of it left with Navarre. That connection I'd felt with him, so suddenly gone, and poof, there went me believing in the fates and gods.

The rocks were ice cold against my thick fur, and despite that, I still felt chilled to the bone, because lets face it, I'm not meant for cold temperatures. But rather than be out and exposed, I stuck to these rocks at night. I tried to keep myself busy during the day, though it wasn't likely I'd find something worth while to keep me mobile for longer than a few minutes, twenty tops when hunting down a meal. That's what the river was for--Fish. I tended to eat that more than anything, because lets face it, I wasn't about to go hunt down a full size deer or fawn every few days, that was too much work.

Tonight I was atop the rocks of the crags, laying atop them, basking in the moonlight. I was homesick, and well, just plain lonely. Knowing that I had to keep an eye out for those who wished to steal me made me more weary than anything, and lets face it, I'm not the best at being weary. I suck at it, plain and simple. I hate being anxious and I hate not knowing how things will go. Instead tonight I worry about how I've failed the fates, and how the ancestors must be rolling in their graves, knowing I had failed a fated bond.