Bearclaw Valley To the ends of the Earth

The rising of the sun had brought with it a reminder of his quest, pulling him from his slumber and dragging him towards the forest. He searched as the sun climbed higher, following paths that he thought were familiar—which was difficult, as he couldn’t decipher whether he remembered them from his youth or more recently—and hoping for the best. But luck was on his side, as he soon found himself staring down into the very same burrow he’d found so long ago. It was smaller now—no, he was bigger—no longer giving the room needed to nestle in there. It was, however, still lined with and stuffed full of various aged skins, worn down by the years—but he could still tell what they were and remembered where he’d gotten them. Nostalgia washed over him whilst memories crawled out from the depths of his mind, recalling the times before his family was pulled apart—

—until a howl snapped him out of it, dragging him back to the present and reminding him that he had more important things to do than wander down memory lane.

Alexander left the burrow behind—after making a mental note of where exactly it was, of course—and headed towards the entrance. By the time he was making his way up the boulder-filled path, the cloak of what once was had long since been shed, leaving the albino as he presently was exposed. His expression was hardened and posture stiff, tail seemingly having taken up permanent residence over his back. And as he neared the end of the path and could finally see the outsiders, he slowed to a stop and stared them down, asking, “What do you two want?” Pleasant greetings still weren’t—and would likely never be—a strong suit of his. But luckily for them, he didn’t take notice yet to the female’s injuries, her stillness making the limp impossible to see.