Swiftcurrent Creek Insidious disaster

Just as it had been many months ago, Haunter came to Swiftcurrent Creek's borders in the middle of the night before anyplace else. His first time had been entirely coincidental, seeking refuge from the barren winter, but this time he came with a purpose set in his large paws. This time he arrived for something more specific than survival.

Surviving was no longer the black wolf's main motivation. It had always been his main concern, but ever since coming into the Teekon Wilds, things had changed for him. He'd been a part of a pack, and not begrudgingly or as an outsider as he'd typically been viewed, but as a member. And he dare think that he had been happy. He'd had rank, power, and respect. Even more than any of those things, he'd had Fox...

Now Haunter had nothing. Not even his sanity to account for. He could barely remember his days in Swiftcurrent, his only tangible memory that remained had been the face of a fire-furred youngster. He went days without eating, his appetite almost non-existent, and the mongrel appeared starved and gaunt, his fur patchier and more wild than before.

His eyes too seemed somehow sharper, more acidic, the pupils narrow and his face entirely feral. Saliva coated his lips, making his mouth slick and his yellowed teeth glimmering. He arrived at the Creek's borders, not entirely sure how or why, his thoughts muddied and blurry—he was sure he was insane.

And it made him pace the long line of the pack's territory. He had done so for many weeks when he'd lived here, nearly every day. He remembered now of it now, and walking Swiftcurrent was almost as if he were doing it for the first time again. Why am I here?