Blackfeather Woods with all the taste i desire

Light rain spattered at the naked boughs of the trees. He crossed beneath them without a care; his strides were long and light, knowledgeable enough of the terrain not to make too much sound as he drifts. In the days since returning among the Blackfeather wolves it has been Mou's solemn desire to keep the little family safe. He has spent hours mapping out the borderlands of their home, eager to return to it. At times he drifts deeper, almost as if he has forgotten the tumultuous nature of the season, and is met on numerous occasions by obstacles that he cannot pass. Trees uprooted but intact; earth which has given way to sinkholes; caches left exposed and rotting in the open air, leaving a noxious scent trailing ominously. There is too much work for one creature to do alone—but he investigates in silence, never bringing the destruction to the attention of Maegi or Jakoul. They have been through enough without him; fairer, then, that he try to remedy the situation on his own.

He has not seen the temple in more than a season, though. In the summer he had glimpsed it but the sight did not elicit any emotion from him. The altar had been lit by a spotlight of sun, and upon it baked trinkets that made little sense to the ghost. Bones, mostly. Stones, which made him think of the lost Relmyna and her twin girls. In the days that followed it would be surprising if the altar remained intact. When he was passing near where the temple sat, Mou deviated just enough so that he could cut across the old path; here, he found the fresh scent of Blackfeather and wondered if there were other ghosts left adrift—and in following the path left by the boy he did not know, Mou found the temple. It was intact, for the most part; the boy stood out among the debris, a glimmering gold the likes of which Mou had not seen since the warm seasons.

They appeared distracted, and the ghost did not wish to disturb whatever was going on. He intended to slip on by the boy and continue his exploration, yet it became clear very quickly that there was no longer a route of egress where once there had been multiple. The pale wolf was left to drift for a bit, aimless, lost, until he realized he'd have to double-back the way he'd come and creep by the boy again. With a disgruntled little huff he began to do just that.