Because what if Aytigin was just another dead end?
It was a thought Rayza couldn't afford to be true - he needed Aytigin to be something more than he was, though at this point, he couldn't quite remember why this was so important. Only that it was - that somewhere, his father still lurked, still watched, and that one day, Rayza would rise at last and prove to Ajay that he had always been wrong.
Only, if Aytigin wasn't a dead end, this place sure was. The scent of any pack who had once laid claim to the lofty forest ran stale. At first he'd lingered near the borders, circumspect to test his fate, then touched a gutsy step over the faded line where the pack used to run. Now he strode with an agitated step through the very heart of what used to be Hearthwood River, past another countless stream, with no fresh scent but the touch of a vagrant here and there. The pack themselves - well, they were gone - that much was obvious - just another failure to place upon his growing mound.