As the smell of smoke filled the air the stench of the coyotes began to fade. He frequented the borders more often, perhaps in hopes that his pumpkin-eyed friend would return or that a strange, mud-dusted girl would appear, and would occasionally wander a few metres beyond the Edge territory. Neither friend appeared. But the coyotes did not make an appearance either. His expeditions grew longer as he braved the forest beyond the shallows. Some days he did not want to return home. Some days he hoped he would bump into a feral coyote. But he always returned. As much as he wanted to chase after his greyscale friend he knew that she needed to be alone. Find herself. Soothe the demons that taunted her mind. Do whatever she needed to do. Without him. He just needed to stop being such a big baby about it. It was not about him. Or how he felt. It was about her. It would always be her, and he would always put her first. Even when he wanted to be selfish.
He ventured further south today, his gangly legs dragging him through the forest. His world had grown duller since the departure of his closest friend. The colours he had once adored had become muted; desaturated. They no longer captivated him. Instead they had grown quiet and uninteresting. Boring.
He brushed past the familiar red ferns in search of the glen he often frequented with his absent friend. Sachiel did not know why he was searching for the glen, especially when he was trying to move forward and be happy, but something was drawing him south. Smoke lingered in the air but it was not as thick as it once was. It made his nose twitch and muted the colours even more but he did not mind. The change of scenery was nice, even if it wasn’t ideal conditions.