It has been a long while since Blackmoore felt... free like this. Born into a pack of Northcrest Valley, he always thought that he's not going to feel like this again after the proving. An old ritual for those coming of age into adulthood. Pretty simple in theory but a little harder to pull off in practice as there was no actual set of tasks for the young ones to go by. Just vague guidelines - "bring something useful for the pack". Which could meant anything. Some with aptitude for herbs were coming back with plants not native to their home. If the healers found those useful, they could apply for apprenticeship under them - thus with time coming back to the proving, but as judges this time. Others would try to prove their hunting skills by either banding up together to hunt for a big game and bring back a trophy. Others would hunt alone, for smaller, but preferably elusive prey like a snipe which is almost impossible to catch. One with a such trophy would be certain to be made a scout or pathfinder for the pack. There was also a warrior's way, where they young adventurers would venture out to usually come back with a few scars and a story to tell. Proving their mettle and strength to preserve and come back alive and in one piece. There was always room for those in a pack, even one so peaceful as his... Lastly, one could come back with information about the affairs of the neighboring packs and roaming groups. Which was what the male did, sort of. There was few other things he did, singularly none of those was of great importance but judged together - Blackmoore have earned his place back among the adults...
If he only knew it will be roughly for just a year though... But who could predict the takeover? Well, surely not him. After all he'd was way too young and inexperienced to see past the disguises of many to draw conclusions and predict anything. But would it be better for him if he'd threw his lot with the challenger? Blackmoore honestly doubted that from today's perspective. New alpha was violent, headstrong and mistrustful to the extreme. He would have leave the pack even if he wasn't suggested to do so by those who gained by supporting the change. That's how Moore have found himself roaming the "wilds" yet again, experiencing and getting even more familiar with the sensation of being on your own. Not above anyone, nor under. Part of him loved it, chocked almost on the freedom of not having to live under the "new management". At the other hand, despite it had been just little over two weeks - he'd already missed the pack. After all, they were pretty much everything he knew until this point...
The dice were cast though, and the black hued male have ventured forth - away from the valley he knew. There was no point in staying around, being constantly reminded - or worse, living on memories or false hopes for a change. He was still young and could make a name for himself, join a new pack. Or even perhaps create one of his own? There was no telling what the life might hold in store after all. With a such mindset Blackmoore have reached the southern edges of the Dragonfly Fen. Or rather a swampy bog, as he didn't really knew the true name of this place yet. For him it was an uncharted land, far beyond the lands of which he heard while being still a part of the Northcrest valley. Perhaps he'd would learn of it in it's due time, if not for the fact that it was still pretty much winter. One could sense the spring coming, in some days temperatures were finally rising so much that snow begun to melt. But it was way too early to see the namesake's of this place. For now, male have begun his trek along the Pitch Pine trail. He had to move slowly, snailing among the trees that grew here in a such abundance that snow haven't yet melted much. The abundance of shadows have prevented that so far... It was hardly noon but Blackmoore had to wonder already how quickly the night will settle in here, thanks to the thick cover of tree's...