Whitefish River A thousand voices howling in my head

He had left the south in search of...something. The ache in his bones was still present, like a child refusing to give up a chew toy. His head hurt less but the pain was still there with the louder noises or bright lights. It was why he moved through the night. His large form was rather pathetic in this roguish state and maybe, unconsciously, he was trying to hide himself from others. The man in the south had been nice but how did he know anyone else would be?

His nostrils flared at the scent of another. Outlander was not in a mood to be social and so he let out a soft rumble of discomfort to warn the other.