Whitebark Stream The river will be your eyes and ears.

Fear had plunged into his bones as the river continued to swell. As quickly as he had found a home, it had been wiped from existence, starting with Aphrodite. He had gone out on a limb, following her to something that looked like it could have been a better life. Something with meaning. Juniper had kept him strong. But she had faded and shrank as the rain continued to fall day after day. Taikon knew that the river would not stop. He knew that Artyom and Dawn would have the wisdom to move their young family away from this forsaken place.
But they ventured east, toward no place that could be home. They melted away into the Taiga, and Taikon did not follow. Juniper had once asked, why do people leave? She had asked as if begging him to stay. But his little scrub was leaving him, and he knew it unlikely he would ever see her vibrant face again. That face had disappeared with the rise of The Saints and the healer's death.
Whitebark Stream was broken. Though Taikon could hear the howls of his prior pack mates in the distance as he ventured around the old territories, there was nothing more holding him there. The rug had been ripped from under him once more, this time by the combined turmoil of regional threat and Mother Nature. He thought for a moment of allowing the water from the river to take him, but this seemed pointless.
Taikon moved west, homeless and more bitter than ever.