Emberwood this world at times will blind you

@Shaara backdated a day or two if that's ok?

The winter-kissed woods are still and peaceful — a welcome contrast from the heated buzzing of his thoughts. His paws fall softly against the snow as he walks, leaving the barest imprints in their wake, though the softly-falling snow quickly covers his tracks. He shivers, suppressing a cough despite the nagging tickle deep in his throat. There's a heaviness in his chest that feels familiar somehow, a more physical feeling than the anxiety that plagues him. His lungs feel constricted and there's a feverish heat spreading up through his face, permeating his nose and his mouth. He's certain he must be sick.
Fear of infecting his packmates keeps him far from the territory; he's opted to wander instead, even to his own detriment. He hardly finds it a burden anyway. The combination of newness and distant familiarity of the land is a strangely addicting feeling to the wolf who has always been plagued by wanderlust. He hears a soft rustling sound and slows, glancing up just as a clump of fresh snow falls from one of the barren branches above and nails him right in the face. His head drops immediately, nose and eyes stinging with cold snow and tree grodies. He snorts and splutters, shaking his head wildly and pawing at his face to clear the snow away. Ugh. Maybe he should have stayed home.