Bearclaw Valley we rush the west in silence

The wolf did not know where he was going, only that the scents were new, and that seemed like a good thing. He was hungry. He was tired. There was no sign of uncle anywhere (there hadn't been for many days now) yet still the wolf persisted. Leaving the mountain had been a difficult task but as he moved, as he adapted, his worries became vague things. Where his family had gone mattered less and less as he roamed - he became a feral thing, concentrated solely upon hunting the next meal, finding shelter for the moments where sleep became impossible to resist, and the wildness within him.

A part of him would always be connected to the mountain - to uncle - but without the older beast present, Tsukiko merely had to worry about himself. He had been taught well; as he came upon an unknown valley he knew to seek out water first, food second. That his belly should fill with fluid rather than entrails was counterintuitive to him - his hunger was intense and mindlessness pursued it - but Tsukiko would not depart from his family's teachings so easily.

As he came slinking through a foreign forest (it was so much like Ryoumori that he felt a stirring of something deep beneath the shroud of ferality that overwhelmed him), Tsukiko was captivated by the scents and sights around him; so much so, he forgot for the briefest of moments that he hadn't eaten more than a rat in the past few weeks.