Fox's Glade feel the fear in my enemies' eyes

The weeks that followed the death of his dearest—and likely only—friend had whirled right on by, lacking the touch of anything worth noting. Alexander had taken his leave from the coastal pack in silence, then began his journey of aimless wandering. His mind buzzed with thoughts that revolved around various different topics, unable to focus on any one thing in particular. Some mornings, before the sun had risen, the boy had stopped and considered seeking out the woods in order to deliver the news, only to be stopped each and every time by his own inability to accept reality. A part of him wanted to continue on living with the belief that the body he’d seen hadn’t actually been Kendra’s, but the other part of him never allowed for the notion to fully settle within his mind. She was dead, she wasn’t coming back this time, and that was something that he’d need to either live with or lay himself down somewhere and wait for death the claim him, too.

Far from the coast, his surroundings grew more familiar with each step he took, yet his conscious mind refused to recognise the similarities. Even after entering the glade, after catching a whiff of someone he could never forget, he remained just the same: dull and nearly lifeless, moving but lacking a destination. And so onward the albino went, continuing unknowingly in the direction of the very wolf whose existence had troubled his own so terribly.