Arrow Lake the pariah

He journeyed in silence, without pause for rest or sustenance in any form. Each slight hesitation, every moment his paws lingered just a beat too long the knife twisted deeper into his chest. Only constant movement kept the cutting sensation at bay. His pads were raw, legs sore, eyes dry and aching. His stomach complained, and a tender pulsing behind his right eye warned of an impending migraine. He trudged on nonetheless.
The Mayfair was more careful this time as he descended toward the lake below. The blade ground itself deeper into his flesh, familiarity prickling at him like a million little spider bites at the tender edges of the wound. "Well met... you're hurt." He sucked air in quickly through his teeth, gaze trained on the water with such singularity he missed the presence of the other wolf entirely. Fully descended now, Cortland crept to the shoreline, eyes glazed over.
"Do you want to know about your family for their sake... or for yours?" He hadn't known the answer then. Slow, shuffling steps took him right to the edge of the water. If he turned just slightly, he'd have seen the shadow lurking at the lake's edge, not far at all; if he lifted his nose to the sky and focused a moment, he'd have scented the stranger. He did neither, argent eyes fixed on each ripple of the water's surface. He knew now; now, searching for answers he'd never get for the second time in his life, he knew that it was for none but himself. Buried somewhere deep between his ribs, the knife turned white-hot and scathing.