Bramblepoint Back beat, the word was on the street that the fire in your heart is out

He had struck out from the woods many days ago, leaving Xan and Ocra behind as he traveled beyond the mountains to the west and farther still. His purpose was threefold. There might have been more wolves suited to fledgling Tortuga beyond the reaches of the valley. Sriracha felt a desire and a duty to recruit them. Further still he wanted to know the lay of the land, to know what lay beyond the imperious mountains. He wanted to know what the political playing field was, and whether some outside thread might close in upon Tortuga and her friends.

And so he found himself far from home in unfamiliar lands. This was not upsetting so much as exhilirating. Beneath the boughs of a myriad of trees. They were tall and stately or bend and gnarled, and beneath them the underbrush was clinging, their thorn's catching in Sriracha's fur. He ventured bravely on, avoiding the bramble thickets when he could. He, too, caught the scent of a wild pig. Hunger turned his stomach, and without thought he was off, chasing down the smell, unaware that somewhere near, another wolf did the same.