Leaving his family’s pack lands had been easier than it had been the first two times. The moment his paws carried him further and further away, the less of a weight he felt on his shoulders—water off a duck’s back. He felt like he could breathe again. He pressed on, not bothering to stick around for the self pitying mob, marching through Kingsfall, until he left the forest behind and found himself in the open vastness of the lowlands.

He had sucked in a lungful of crisp night air as he thought about what Inna had shrieked in response to his farewell call, and laughed. How could he not? Whilst @Inna’s reply had caught him off guard initially, it was such a crock of bullshit that he couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, thoroughly amused. She thought he’d come back, did she? Fuck her. Aleksei felt no regret nor guilt over being relieved that he’d (hopefully) never see her or her miserable secret mate again, nor their little accident. His plain sister, with her boring way of talking (nothing but imitation of their parents) and holier than thou attitude. Even when she lied, Inna thought she was better than everyone else, thought she had a right to threaten people’s lives, cubs lives.

As if.

Coming to a stand still, Aleksei cast his gaze behind him. There were the trees of Kingsfall, in his past. He watched the canopy with a steely gaze for a moment, gulping in the sight of towering redwoods growing ever higher and higher before scoffing and turning his attention back to the tundra. There were no shadows here., and nothing stood above him. Good, he thought. Swinging his head to the west, he hummed thoughtfully. Perhaps … perhaps he’d pay @Askan that visit, see how he was doing. Aleksei needed a friend, and whilst he wouldn’t consider himself exceptionally close to the dark coated wolf, Askan was the closest thing he had to one. He didn’t need to think about it much, and found his feet walking before he willed them to do so.

Hopefully it wouldn’t take long to reach Wild Rye Fields.

Aleksei’s attention was immediately caught by a voice and he turned. A wolf of white and cream, with a muzzle that looked as though it had been dipped in ash. He watched her for a moment, stewing on how he should respond to her question. Was he lost? In a lot of ways, yes. He felt painfully lonely, in an endless loop of reaching out for another, only to be yanked back before he could press his face into the fur of another by some invisible source. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do now, either. Aleksei knew where he was going to go, sure, but what would he do after that? He was a tiny boat without a paddle, and life was a churning river, tossing him around, teasing him with jagged rocks that would shatter his body and leave him to sink.

This girl, though … well, she wouldn’t care for the life problems of some angry, empty man. She only meant lost in the literal sense. “No,” he replied finally, watching her as she sat. “I’m all right, thanks.” He paused, letting his eyes catch hers. There was no hierarchy out here in the wild. Her eyes were like buttercups peaking through the snow. “Are you? I assume you’re local though, so that might seem like a stupid thing to ask.” Aleksei mimicked her earlier movements, lowering to sit for a moment, catch his thoughts and his energy (he’d been walking all night, after all).

His tail curled around his haunches and his head tilted slightly as he studied her. She was somewhat skinny. Or, at the very least, she held less weight than the Hearthwood women. No doubt that she was a lone wolf then—he couldn’t catch a solid scent from her even as he tried, nose twitching wildly. She smelt of the world, of freedom, of the hardships of the wild. He both pitied and envied the lifestyle, and, in turn, her.

Briefly, Aleksei wondered why she had approached him—could a wolf look lost? Maybe it was something simpler than random empathy. Perhaps, to this wildling girl, the prospect of company was serendipity. He wouldn’t deny the fact that he felt relief that someone had unintentionally forced him out of his toxic thought cycle.