There were many a good reason as to why Rook had left the place of his birth and chased a tale that had only been told to him in whispers and brief excerpts in passing. Didn't his mother say it was in the west? Or was it south-west? That place his parents had called Relic Lore...
The boy's breath caught in his chest as he journeyed to the south, keeping the sunrise to his left and the sunset to his right, not stopping to rest until his aching paws couldn't take another step; and, when he had recovered, he began his traveler's lope once more, determined to make the 14-day trip as expected. By the dawn of the sixteenth day, Rook's muddied paws found a field beneath his pads, extending from the tree line and out into a vast meadow. He held his head high, taking in the sight of blackberry blossoms and thorny brambles. Over the course of a few hours, he had followed a young buck to this place, but now its velvet-antlered head was nowhere to be found. He turned his head to the left, scanning the area to no avail, but finding that the breeze brought to him the scent of a wolf pack nearby.
He fought the urge to shrink away and instead, he turned back to the meadow in front of him, determined to cross it, and in the meantime, look for something to fill his belly with. Strolling across the ground and stopping only once to pick a thorn from between his right paw, he eventually came to a full stop as he saw his shadow stretch out in front of him across the grasses and felt the sun beat down on his mottled back. His gaze lifted up to the overcast skies, not daring to turn around and face the gigantic star in fear of showing his ungratefulness. His blessings and prayers had gotten him this far, perhaps this, too, was a sign- a sign that he was not meant to follow the stag further into the forest opposite of the one he had just exited.
Slowly exhaling as the sun's rays were overtaken again by clouds, he shrugged to himself and lowered his nose to the ground, attempting to draw his prey's scent to him. Again, the sun came out and Rook had to pause to consider what it all meant. He turned his eyes skyward again, his jaw clenching as he turned about to face the faint white circle in the clouds. "What?" he questioned. "What is it? There's nothing here!" He scoffed as he eyed the bleak edges of the Ghastly Woods to the east and the thick foliage of the Thicket to the west. "You wanted me to follow... You. An' now look what You've gone and done!"
Frustrated he sighed and paced in a tight circle, stopping as the winds began to pick up, deriving him of his sense of smell. His ears came down as he quietly told himself that he was not lost and, most importantly, not going to let his family down. He had come here for a reason, or reasons now that He was telling him to stop his tracking, and he was not going to be so easily discouraged or held back by what his faith had taught him to do or believe.
But a sign was a sign... and it told him to wait. For what, he did not know, but in attempt to stave away his impatience, he plunked down in the grass and bowed his head in silent prayer.
Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love... commits me here...
Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.