Though he thought he knew where he was going, doubt still plagued Ill somewhere in his anxiety ridden mind. He was a realist, he knew exactly what he was getting into by searching unknown lands for a wolf he had never heard of. But this was the only rumor he had to go on and if he stayed out, alone, much longer, his own safely wasn't guaranteed. Though this land didn't scare him as much as the copse that lingered in the distance. In fact it reminded Ill of his own den, so far south that he could hardly remember what direction it even was, though it was better left that way. With each paw step water seeped out of the ground and soaked deep into his fur. To the young male, water was his worst enemy; he'd rather spend a day in the heat then wade through a field of disgusting still water. Never-the-less, the journey continues.
Ill had never been alone for such a period of time, let alone several months. The feeling of looking back and seeing family trailing quietly behind him, waking up under the stars to sleeping brothers, the small talk, the company; it felt like a poniard being slowly inserted into his very heart. He could never go back. Staring up at the trees, the way the branches looked frozen in a still embrace was comforting, and in a way haunting. It had been hot out in the fields when first discovering Relic-Lore; but the farther he traveled into the comfort of the woods, the more the cool air started to envelope him like a large sheet. Something else was also happening...the light source from high above that spotlighted his whole journey slowly but surely started to die.
With the sharp splish-splosh underneath to keep him company, Ill wondered if he was not alone.