Golden Glade savin' all your food stamps and burnin' down the trailer park

Tagging @Phox but technically AW ;)

He had thought that perhaps there would have been some anxiety about returning to the now all-too familiar lands of the Hinterlands, but with one swiping look in the direction of the Copse, Pippin had simply kept going forward, seeking further to the southern aspects of the region. Lost Creek Hollow had been a bust—but he wasn’t mad about it. Visiting ghosts was hardly a way to move forward in his life, and dwelling on family that had been so far removed from his memory now would do him little good.

Mordecai. Harlyn. Silas. Larkspur.

There was a certain pain in his chest at the thought of any of them, and like all things that Pippin found too painful, he swallowed the emotions and brushed them aside, seeking to clear his mind and distract himself with some form of debauchery, mischievous antics, or scouting.

Today, his purpose was to determine his future, and so when the Ostrega stood at the precise of the glade, the gentle summer wind blowing at his fur, he snorted, considering thoughtfully.