Grouse Thicket out of the mist

For @Ulrich

For months on end, all traces of the lone Duskfire had vanished from the Teekons. He had tried to get a foothold in Sweetharbor. While eternally grateful to Heda and Bartholomew, he just could not mesh with that way of life. Ensio was not a religious wolf. He was practical, facing the world for what it was. A harsh place.

He came to realize that perhaps he was destined to live his life as a drifter. Even if that may be, he could not bring himself to leave his native homeland. Not especially in knowing he was likely the only one of his bloodline still alive. Brought back to familiar stomping grounds, he huffed softly. Glacial eyes scanned for traces of life, feathered or otherwise.