Neverwinter Forest up in smoke

So, they were gone. Lost to the sea he supposed, just up in smoke like they'd never been there to begin with. Screech had no idea where they'd gone and he was okay with that. A little butthurt obviously, but it had been the family aspect he had been hunting for, not the actual people from the party. They were nice too but they were not the goal. 

He had found Redshank on the coast with that awful girl. It wasn't what he'd wanted — so after defending his brother he'd taken off, returned to the Ravensblood and to Constantine, begun to take up some kind of a purpose among the wolves there as a way to repay their kindness in helping him. He wasn't very good at it (being good, kind, or helpful), and soon enough — using the excuse that he wanted to scout out some herds — he was venturing south again.

Back to the forest where the creepy Blackfeather woman had been trying to find her son. It was empty now for all he could tell, and it would afford him some shelter and silence while he contemplated what to do next. Ravensblood was his home at the point in his life; it was not his family, it did not feel anywhere near right to him, but he couldn't abandon them yet. The thought was there though. The need, too, for Screech to just say screw it and race back home to the Caldera.

If he did that he'd be killed on sight, and he knew that. But a part of him was lonely enough, starved in an intangible sense, that he was almost willing to try.