Lost Creek Hollow a shell of frozen time

It seemed things were a quieter sort now. Only seeming, as he was not the most social of creatures to inhabit the timber. Outside of a few faces, he had been keen to secret himself away, and the cold winter furthered this. His time had been full up until recently, tending to @Rannoch until he was able to fend for himself, and the rest had been for perusing what Hyacinth had stored away and where. The wolf crossed his mind a time or two in this venture, but her death had marked a certain silence to the background chorus in his life.

A thick fog marked morning as he made a trek to the waters that carved through the territory. Though relatively free in regards to plans, he felt a nagging essence tug at him. Keeping busy had been good for the remainder of his soul, but he had little time to home his craft and offer thanks—perhaps the reason for the silence and solitude now. He thought today he would seize the opportunity, and return to his personal business.

But upon nearing the rush and babble of the stream, a ghastly figure cut through his path along snowpacked terrain. Hesitant, he gave pause to witness them and thought in the curling haze it was very much the shape of the departed healer of the Hollow. This was brief as his steps started to follow—it was not some specter to lead him, but a sure sign that his healing patient had come back from his travels.

"Rannoch," he spoke, "you've returned."

oh look i finally did it chan