Cassiopeia's View and the future seems so bleak

uh yeah, so this is probably a terrible idea, but, whynaut..... right?? open to any msp/rhc wolves just not too many, plz! (i can't have him die just yet)

He is restless, unable to sit still without anticipating what was to come. He feels it, the tides of luck changing on them, and eventually, crashing against the core of their beliefs system in a staggering moment of realization: they are not invincible. Not anymore. Not when half their ranks have moved on, not when their gods have abandoned them and they existed only by what they reproduced. They do not even have that anymore. He wonders if they could not just escape it all, those who were destined to descend upon them if not now, months from then when they are unsuspecting. Charon's visit had only heightened his concern for those who knew who they were, and where they lied. Perhaps the web of their enemies was more vast than he knew, and he had no way of telling in which direction they came. For that fact, perhaps it was foolish for him to embark on a journey outside the dark woods, however, he could not sit still while it was almost a certainty that a storm was brewing and they had no cover to hide under, not anymore.

The teen moves silently, dripping mud and water as he moves; the remnants of an attempt to mask his scent from those that might recognize it. His pelt is stained a deep brown color, distorting his overall look under the setting sun that evening, and his scar, hidden under mud he had rubbed his snout into. The less recognizable he was, the better. His sizing was another issue, yet, something that could not be changed. Vaati could not hide forever, and if would be his unusually large size to give him away, well, there was nothing he could do about that. Instead, he lopes rather soundlessly yet noticeably, in the direction of the farthest region, the Hinterlands. The brotherhood as a whole was yet to step foot into its lands, and if it held an advantage the dark woods did not have, he was inclined to utilize it as a backup home, in the event they were forced to flee. In this, he attempts his best at avoiding the packs he knows of, dodging his way around neighbors and foe's alike with no interest in encountering any of the sort. His days of picking fights and experimenting on the fears and tendencies of others have come to an abrupt halt, and for the better. Those who looked upon him, them and what they would never understand the need for it all, that in their studies of captives and terror, the wolves of Blackfeather Woods became the most in-tune with the necessary evil they were meant to inflict. It was their part in the race of survival-of-the-fittest, and by doing the things they did, it was how they evolved, became better and stronger. Their children were warriors from birth, leaders, liars and those who would change the history of the Teekon, bit by bit. It did not just apply to Vaati, but to Atshen, and before him, Damien. But perhaps their time of survival had run its course. Their reign as the oldest, long-standing pack within the Wilds that had survived thus far by a way of life that was now being told to stop, threatened into extinction. Perhaps it was time. But perhaps, it was not.

The Silencer holds his gaze, eyes wide on the boulevard of the setting sun as he searches for any means of escape, any way that he and his blood may survive to see the next snowfall.