Overture Downs I gotta girl who don't like that at all

It would have been a lie to say that despite his desire to remain in the Hinterlands, the golden wolf wasn’t drawn to the potential of rekindling life in his birth home. Of course, the nearer he drew to the creek, the thicker the scents of others permeated the area—and so the Ostrega kept himself from it, allowing the small spark of longing solder to nothing more than an ember.

It certainly felt like nothing was going his way these days, but when he considered it all, Pippin had come to terms finally of what we sought from life. There was no home for him within the ranks of the Firebirds. The expectations of what he had held onto for friendship had left him sorely disappointed, and while the wayward rogue found himself closed off once more to others, he did know what purpose he would place upon himself.

He would return to the Hinterlands shortly, and seek to perhaps lay claim to an area—but for now, he found himself in the serene fields of summer, his bright eyes falling upon the fiery creature that dug at the center of the haven. Quirking his brows upward, the agouti male took a step forward, his nose quivering as he took in the scent of the other before finally interrupting the quiet—“Let me guess. Trying to dig to the other side of the world…?”