Redsand Canyon And the highway signs say we're close

early afternoon, sunny, 46 F

So far the only thing that had been different was his lack of constant wandering. He supposed he had given up looking for his cousin for the time being, which came with its own set of heavy guilt. The opportunity to be what he was meant to be without the help of his father had been too much to pass up. He hadn't even known the desire lived within him until this life was offered. 

For now, he still spent much of days in solitude, endlessly patrolling the edges of the canyon as he did now. His paws were usually painted red by the end of the day, requiring him to clean them off before finding somewhere to rest for the night. Sleep evaded him most of time, as it usually did, but that never kept from being productive.

He paused to inspect a rock and when he determined to scent marking was too faded, he lifted his leg to refresh it. Then he continued on, paws moving and mind busy.