The Sentinels Bravery only means something to those afraid of death.

It still pained Dacio to walk, though seed of the poppy had eased it enough to allow an opportunity for wandering. He favoured it as he roamed Northward, moving carefully beyond his mountain home with an uncontrollable desire to revisit the place where he'd crossed the path of a certain coastal wolfess. One with whom he'd shared an... interesting encounter.

He'd requested that their coupling be kept quiet, fearful of Hydra's wrath should she come to learn of such intimacy between her subordinates and outsiders. Dacio had heeded her stern warning well enough until that evening. Now, having discovered a whole new purpose in life after finding a source to dip his wick, could not shelf the idea of doing so again.

Young, bold and foolish, fueled by a desire to find his hooded companion so that he might test for another reception of him, Dacio carried on beyond the weald where last he'd seen her and made his way toward the coast. Darkness hung over the world by the time he arrived, but there was no sign of the she-wolf to be found. He hobbled between the trees, not yet defeated, with his gaze searching for any movement between them and nose working to find any other scent beyond that of salt water.