It’d been so long, but he knew these lands. Even though years had drawn on, he found a sense of familiarity with the scenery around him. Natalia’s death had hit him hard, more grey on his fur than he’d be willing to admit. He was in the woods he’d been born into, and further south would be the first pack he’d been raised in. The Slayer man couldn’t help but cringe at the wolf he’d use to be. Sure, there were parts of him that were still the same, but he was also so different. How could he not be, after two years?
He could still smell the borders – even after this time he knew it would likely be Oak Tree Bend, unless something drastic and traumatic had happened that had caused their collapse. He wondered if his uncle was still up in the Hearthwood – perhaps he could go see. Everything was tinged with heartache. He wondered briefly how things had changed, and how things were the same. Who knew… perhaps he would stick around for a little while, catch up on things before moving on. He wasn't too close to the borders, not enough to raise alarm, but probably close enough. He knew what season it was. Interesting. There was something familiar about the scents, but he couldn't quite place what it was.