Snowforest Taiga I'll cry until my pity party's in flames

He has moved beyond the last place his sister dwelled, and now Betelgeuse is lost. It isn't an all-encompassing lost, though. The barren nature of the world gives him pause; he sticks out among this new dead world simply by being alive within it, and knows that one day he will find Gypsy again. For now the beast is pleased by her absence. He loves his sister, dearly so, in his own strange way. Betelgeuse has always been content in his solitude, unphased by it. So being alone now, as he made step after step in to the west, he is not bothered.

Betelgeuse did not know where he was, but he noticed within moments of pausing that he was not alone. The dark figure was far-off still and moved with a heavy gait, thus making him think he was watching a burdened beast; perhaps a bear, or a moose, or something else heavy and indistinguishable within the mire. He picked his way towards the shifting form on the horizon, and over time realized the trail did not lead in to the bog, but away from it. He trailed still, relentless and hungry, until the figure was more than just an irregular ink stain on his vision. It took shape; a tapered silhouette with a heavy, barrel-shaped midsection, a dark pelt, a tail. It was a wolf.

This did not mean he could not eat it. The beast gave a pig-like grunt as he licked saliva off his crooked teeth, and resumed his prowling - ambling after the heavy wolf unpeturbed by the fact it was his own kind.