No Questions Asked

In his time since his acceptance, Tryphon had not tried to get along with anyone. He hadn't met anyone aside from Bazi, and the male named Scimitar - although that had been brief. It had been days, weeks even, since he had joined the peak wolves; and yet he felt more alone now, since rooting himself to this place, than any other time he could remember. Tryphon had tried to study the lay of the land and get a grasp on something familiar - he knew something was happening in his mind. 

Something sparked a feeling of deja-vu within him as he paced among the trees or gazed at the mountain. Perhaps that was what kept him so withdrawn. A sense of alienation, of confusion, leaving the poor boy disoriented and useless. So with a great sense of guilt in his heart, Tryphon had risen that morning with the intent to correct his laziness. To make amends for not following through with his promise to Bazi. But as he advanced towards the mountain's base through the groves of trees, Tryphon felt a strong wave of nausea and dread slip over him.

He stumble-stepped, feeling a pounding sensation in his head, and nearly collapsed on the spot.