The day had been unbearably hot, just like the previous, forcing the dark-backed Baranski to seek shelter from the blazing sun. It only made his misery worse, the way his journey dragged on with these midday rests. He'd thought he would be done with his last mission by now, but instead he still found himself struggling through the forests north of his old home, spending far too many daylight hours idle. Now the sun had set, but rather than starting to cool, the air remained heavy and humid, daring him to stay in his shelter rather than resume the search for Secret Woodlands. But he couldn't, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't hide from the world, and he couldn't run from this last task that Naia had given him. So with the threatening rumble of thunder in the distance, he crept out of his small burrow to continue on, struggling his way deeper into the thickets.

He moved mechanically, hardly even noticing the brambles snapping under his paws and thorns snagging in his fur. It had been like this since he left home, like all his emotions, all of him was locked up somewhere, deep in his heart, hidden away to keep him functioning. He knew it couldn't stay this way, he would have to face his pain at some point, his guilt. But not now, not yet. First he needed to do right by Naia's memory, fulfill the one purpose he had left in life. Then he could break.

Undeterred by the dimming dusk, Orren held his nose high, sniffing for any signs of other wolves in the area. He had to be close now, the thickets didn't get any denser than here! That was the best directions he'd been able to scrape up: The deepest part of the thickets… Of course the one wolf who could have given him more accurate directions… He paused mid-step, biting his lip and breathing in sharply. That hidden part of him threatened to come unraveled; Not yet! Not yet… Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath, and another. He was so focused on his thoughts that the scent caught him completely by surprise, sneaking its way into his conscious through the stale, evening air. But there it was, quickly growing stronger as he started moving again, the smell he had been hunting. Despite the unevenness of the thicket, the borders had been clearly marked, and Orren stopped at a respectful distance, for a moment simply staring into the shadows. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to be the one to bring new of Naia's death to someone else who had loved her. Yet here he stood.

When finally he did raise his head, his voice carried strong and even through the forest, betraying none of the hurt he felt inside.

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