Travel in the daylight was always more enjoyable for him than the adventures of night. Perhaps because he could actually see when the sun was out? How many trees had the fool nearly walked in to - how many ledges had his paws almost slipped off of? The gray wolf had lost count days ago. His only thoughts now were those of disdain and annoyance, far from his usual cheery demeanor. Panther stumbled through the dark like a baby boy (and really, considering he was a two year old on his first excursion away from his beloved home, that was an apt description). When frustration boiled within his blood for an extended period of time, the boy tended to get aggressive. It wasn't a truly dangerous aggression - there was no yelling, no outbreak of sudden sparring, or some other macho display of his agony; Panther simply moved faster, which meant he also ran in to things... Faster. The evening wore on and the wolf, bathed in the light of the moon, overtook the forest with such edacity that one had to think - his parent's had indeed poorly named him. Perhaps cheetah would have fit the fool better. Or bull, judging from all the ruination his fat self perpetrated across the foliage. Wide paws and angular hips - even a jutting belly - created a natural path across the meadow. Panther was quick to lose enthusiasm for the run, though. Around him there was darkness and the tickling annoyance of tall grass; above him only the pinprick of starlight, and a foggy moon, covered by a bit of drifting cloud. He groaned and began to idly, sluggishly make his way through the meadow - casting his gaze towards the earth at his paws, instead of the heavens, where the sky began to erupt with effervescent light. The eerie green glow was lost on him for the time being, as he was too tired to take stock of the beautiful display above.