Silence. Peace and solitude. Here it was that his journey had brought him to once more lay at rest among the trees and unseen spirits that Zenjiro could almost sense. It should have been off-putting to know that ghosts and ghouls inhabited this part of the woods, but in some ways he felt attached to them. He too had started to feel as though he was wandering without purpose - like a ghost. Just barely a yearling and already things had gone so horribly wrong. It was only instinctive to start thinking that the world was out to get him.
Perhaps if he laid here long enough - stayed where he was with his head on his paws and his body laid lazily across a broken fallen log, the world might take pity on him. A ghost might emerge from the fog and turn him to stone until his father came back to find him. That was the ultimate torture in searching for someone else. How could he know that he wasn't walking in circles? What if the man that had taught him all he knew was looking for him as well, trailing behind by a day and a half doomed never to catch up?
Miserable thoughts were deserving of a sigh pushed out through his nose and a breath drawn back in. Somewhere faintly in the back of his mind his systems were still working, and subconsciously he picked up on an unfamiliar scent. A stranger on the approach. His mind turned to defence, but his body never moved. He'd breathed the air of a pack nearby, and deliberately skirted their borders. Perhaps he had misjudged? Had he walked onto their lands? Still he never moved. Maybe if he laid still - they simply wouldn't notice he existed.