Týrr was not sure what had brought him back to Blackfoot Forest. Perhaps he anticipated to see Haunter here, to hear the ebony man with a missing ear's patronizing tone telling him all of the things he had done wrong in his hunt once more. Like Týrr had any control over the foxes that haunted that forest. He moved through the thick copses of trees, towards the heart of the forest, dappled in the sunlight that filtered in through the thick canopy above. He shook his head to dispel those thoughts. He wasn't sure why it still mattered, why he kept dredging it up like some sort of bitter memory that he really didn't want to forget. It had been his motivator for the months in which followed his departure from Swiftcurrent Creek. He didn't need it anymore, but the knowledge that he wasn't and never would be good enough for Fox still stung despite that he convinced himself that he was over her. Crushes didn't last forever, after all, and that had been all it had been.
Shed it, He chided himself mentally as he continued further, the trees becoming thicker, the sun having a harder time breaking through the thickening canopy. You came back to this place to let it go. To forget about him and Fox. Let it go. There were more important things in which he needed to focus his attention and time upon. Building his legacy, for one, allowing himself to plant roots, assisting Tuwawi and Njal with their fledgling pack. Crystalline blue eyes focused upon the darkening path before him, turning off his encumbering thoughts.
a crime so old as the sky and bone