Anwen was gone and, now, so was Dad. Dad. The ever-present force that was lingered in the Fields, the sense of security that blanketed over him and Griffin every night, the Guardian at the borders, the stubborn voice in any (overheard) conversation that refused to be swayed... Chimera wasn't sure what to think. He had never seen death; for one reason or another, he had initially thought that wolves simply went away when it was time for them to go.
Flashbacks of Drestig, den-bound and lethargic, plagued his mind. It was a bizarre thing to just imagine his father not breathing or laying so still that he could have been sleeping, then realize that he would never wake.
For once, the sanctuary in his mind was not enough. To simply step under the pelt that was The Red Hound's hide still meant that the pain could find him there, deep in his chest. For ages, The Red Hound traveled alone, essentially having no one but Neko, the Black Cat, as a blue-moon sort of companion. But, even then, he traveled alone. Chimera now understood how the solitude and loneliness felt without having to pretend.
He forced his paws to keep walking, starting from the edges of the growing Fields and down into the rolling hills that made up the Palisade. If someone could have stopped him, they might have if they paid attention, but the youth kept to himself and ultimately shrugged off anything that would have kept him from moving. He was going to see just how far he could go today until the need to return home screamed at him to turn back.