Dawnlark Plains You can hold my hand if no ones home

"Maybe this wasn't....a good idea?"  the sire mumbled to himself whilst taking a look around at the unfamiliar scape, anxiety forming a ball that he couldn't quite swallow, and dark eyes grimaced in uncertainty. It was separation anxiety for sure making him act like this, otherwise wandering in a field with no apparent danger wouldn't have been such a big deal in the first place.

A reminder that he had rarely left the shores he called home -- where he'd tend to pregnant mothers and patch up injured warriors coming home from war. He'd organize the caches within his den with herbs he'd gather, and socialize happily with his patients -- that was the life Mateo had lived until now.

Up until his affairs were found out, and the very wolves who had welcomed him home during every trip he'd taken were quick to cast him out once he'd been deemed too disgusting to be around.

"Disgusting", they called him. The physician knew it shouldn't have hurt him that much, but it was a word he wouldn't be able to laugh off like the others.

Disgusting.

Paw pads crunched against the lightly frosted grass, and a muzzle lifted off into the sky as if the heavens would've given the medic the answer he needed. Lost without a purpose. Lost without a place to call home....