I am not a pattern to be followed. The pill that I'm on is a tough one to swallow. I'm not a criminal, not a role model… Not a born leader, I'm a tough act to follow. I am not the fortune and the fame, nor the same person telling you to forfeit the game. I came in the ring like a dog on a chain and I found out the underbelly's sicker than it seems; and, it seems ugly but it can get worse 'cause even a blueprint is a gift and a curse…
- Linkin Park, “When They Come For Me”
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The rank odor of death clung to his thin frame; all around his body where his pelt should have been downy from the acquisition of his winter pelt, tufts of fur were matted together and sticking up where the ought to have laid neatly. His left wrist hindered his stride; if one looked close enough, it seemed like he had almost lost the ability to bend it, let alone put weight on it for a long time. His eyes were distant – starved and yearning for something familiar. Every so often his nose, dry from traveling and the change of season, twitched and he blinked. Time had been cruel, leading him in constant circles and blurring the days together into a string of endless thoughts, lightness, darkness, and the vague moments in-between.

During the first weeks of his disappearance, the ex-leader of Cedarwood Forest had been obsessed with finding his first-born son, whom he realized was missing the evening the pup did not return to the den when Jaysyek called. In time the craze from keeping his hopes up turned the Renegade into something not unlike a soulless corpse.

His flight of ideas went on and on in strings of jumbled words: search, search, search... Was he here? Could he have gone this far? Did he drown? Would the River wolves take him in if they found him? I should have prevented this from happening. Maybe I could have saved him. Let's search here… Maybe this… Perhaps that... This was my fault. I am being punished. My pack is suffering for my inadequacy... This was my fault.

For days he had followed the river until he had persuaded himself that Grizzly Hollow would do best without him. Kiche had been right and he had been stupid to think otherwise… to think he had left Hell behind. He had brought it with him from the Mountain! Wickedness had trickled into the workings of his pack; that was why the rust-pelted preacher had come to join their ranks. Traveling north had been the right thing to do; if he stayed away his children would grow up as they ought to, untainted and guided by better role models. If he stayed away, Grizzly Hollow and Relic Lore as a whole would do best without him… and, in time, forget him completely.

The latter seemed to be incorrect, however; and, it seemed that every so often the crows overhead, perched high above him in the bare branches of the Orchard, remembered. They twittered amongst themselves, scolding him with a harsh cry before he left their sight. Growling to himself, he trudged on at an uneven pace, simply listening to the sounds of the place that used to be his home.

Ambling along, the brute would have continued on his way south, toward where he thought Cedarwood Forest would be, but the curious feeling of being followed or watched slowed his pace. His muscles tensed as he drew in a couple of deep breaths, trying to assess if he could pick up the nuisance's scent. He snorted and glanced back to see a small, rather youthful female tracing his steps. She could follow if she wanted, though he wasn't sure why she would want to, especially when he was such a haggard state.

His head went back to the land in front of him and he strolled for a while longer until he was certain he could have lost her. When he turned to look over his shoulder, there she was. Still. He stopped in his tracks, turned around to face her and squared his bony shoulders. If she had wanted to rankle him, she had succeeded with flying colors. His tail rose over his back and his ears turned forward as a thunderous growl rumbled from his throat. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

The Renegade waved his tail in the air, snapping his jaws once in the middle of her apology and explanation. "I'M LOOKING FOR MY SON!" he bellowed. "Get lost!" Hopefully that would get his point across that he was going to be of no use to her. She should have used her nose; she was a wolf, after all.

His muzzle smoothed for a moment before wrinkling back up to bare his teeth. Despite his malnourished build, he was hoping to discourage her from following him any further than the Orchard. His hackles rose and he firmly planted his forepaws into the dry ground. If she thought otherwise, he was certainly going to make sure she didn't. The last thing he needed was some nosy youngster who hindered his journey towards home.

His body quivered and almost instantly his mind told him that he was fine. Of all the times he was determined to make use of his traveling time, this woman decided to skulk about behind him. Borden dug his claws into the cold soil before withdrawing his left paw, his eyes lifting exasperatedly to the cloudy afternoon sky. "I'm. FINE," he grumbled when she said that he could hardly walk straight.

She went on to tell him to look at himself, to realize that he could barely stand and that he was basically skin-and-bones. Another growl crept up from his chest. He would eat as soon as he found his first-born child... At least, that is what he had been teling himself for the past few weeks or so; every second and every minute was to be spent searching for Prosper and any other activity was to be held off until then. If given any opportunity to save the pup in question, he was going to take it and he had to be ready. Hearing her offer - food for details about the Orchard - he shook his head and slowly placed his left forepaw back on the ground, though he didn't dare to put his weight back onto it.

"It's an orchard," he bluntly stated. "It's rogue territory." He held his tongue at the end of his sentence. Perhaps if he told her to beat it, she wouldn't hang around for much longer. He turned slightly around, as if to signal that he was ready to trek on, weary with wasting his breath. "I'm busy, so if you'll excuse me..." he finally barked with an edge to his words, hobbling a few steps forward.

Shrugging and wincing all the while he had his back to her, he staggered along. If he could put the Orchard behind him, he could call it a day. As it was, he had practically just stepped into the grove when Chito had stumbled by. Silently he counted the steps he took.

One... two... three... four... five... He strained his ears to determine if she would continue to trail along behind him. Then, without a second thought, he glanced over his shoulder one last time. "And DON'T follow me," he warned gruffly. "If I ever come across you again, I will be the very last thing you'll see." His fur bristled as he hinted that he would not hesitate to attack her if they crossed paths again. Hopefully that would be enough to keep her away. He had a family to get back to...