Firefly Glen Caledonia

@Allure
It had taken time and patience, but he was finally on the mend. 

Following the battle, which the Caldera wolves had lost, Shrike had not returned to the pack he had just joined. Guilted by the shame of losing the battle, and injured to the point where he'd had no choice but to stay relatively still, exhaust as little energy as possible and heal up from his injuries, he didn't see the point in returning to the pack. He wasn't sure if the war had been won or lost- despite their battle going sour. His first priority was to heal up and his next priority was to find Allure. He'd seen her go- so he knew she was alive. Now he just had to find her...Again. 

Fortunately, he was able to move a bit, day by day, and as a skilled tracker, remained on her scent even though it had gone old. He assumed she might be looking for him as well, the way her path went. Had he been smart- and had he been a boy scout- he would've known that he simply should have stayed still, rather than wandering around in his search, and she likely would have found him. But Shrike was a tracker- and hadn't been a boy scout- so he did the foolish thing by moving, bit by bit, every day. 

His wounds had not been enough to kill him- but his left shoulder had been gouged fairly well by teeth, and his left eye had sustained a wound which had turned the pale green of his iris to a cloudy grey. Not so unlike his grandfather, Shrike had lost the sight in his left eye. A subtle hint of a limp dogged his step, and the wounds had scabbed over well along his torso and flanks, but despite those wounds he would survive. Through ankle deep snow he trudged, sun glistening on the surface and causing him to squint, doggedly pursuing a trail he hoped would end soon.