Twisted Slough enshrined in crematoria

Last from me.

He did not notice the movement, not until Lasher's gaze directed him towards it, and even then Renoir was reluctant to give chase. He was no hunter. He had never known the feeling of the wind upon his back, the pump of his heart or the thrill of adrenaline coursing his body; he felt out of place. But his duty was to the pack. He was here to seek food for them all, alongside these fine men, and so he would not give up, much as he wished to turn around and head home. The boy nodded to Lasher's words and then moved with the others, and roamed along.