He wasn't good at tracking. Or finding evidence. He was a warlock, not a hunter or spy or whatever trade was good at such things. The Patriarch would have been better off sending someone with him rather than shoving him out by himself.
Maybe that was the point.
He sighed, dropping the stone's bag of rabbit skin in a small crevice he found near the shore of the lake. He'd needed to get some better skin soon. And some herbs. He stretched and cracked his jaw, feeling its stiffness from clamping down on something for such a long time.
My mind is clearer now...
...at last, all too well...
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