June 04, 2018, 10:59 AM
All he has to do to get back home is follow his instincts. Despite having traveled inmensurable lengths and directions unknowable, Damien's soul would always trace a path straight back to Blackfeather Woods, and it did. In a matter of days Damien was back at the feet of Blackfeather Woods' foreboding treeline, just at the dead of night, hoping to find just what he'd left behind so many moons before.
But something was off. The marks at the borders, which he clearly remembered were usually garnished with the blood of their targets, was now dully scented with little more than piss and shit. He howled, finding no quicker way to pick the pack's attention since there seemed to be no one on guard.