Stone Circle don't know what you've got till its gone

He had no heckin' idea where he was, how he'd gotten here, or how he was still alive. Everything looked the same from one point of the wilds to the next — and being a youngster, it wasn't like Ty knew much about navigation or the art of tracking. He was incredibly, stupidly, dangerously lost. All he could do was seek shelter for yet another night beneath the stars; it wasn't as idyllic as it may have sounded to the boy who had spent far too many nights coiled up in a pile, cold, hungry, and alone. He wished he could be back home on the plateau - but even as he thought of home, his little attention-deficit brain flipped like a switch and he was focused on something else.

The scent of wolf was everywhere; it was so strong a mixture that for a moment, Tywyll had the idiotic hope he'd somehow turned around on his quest and wound up back in the boglands by the plateau --- but he knew better, especially as he began to root around in the soil with his head lowered between his gaunt, sharp shoulders. He sought those scents with more energy than he'd shown in weeks. At the very last second, as he turned and tumbled down a small incline along the hillside, he found himself rolling through one of the fresh marks and skidding through some mud, landing chest-first where the earth leveled out.