Stone Circle Is this what you want?

He left in gentle silence that morning after haphazardly announcing his wellness.

Heavy paws carried him forward. Slow, gentle, and crushing as his full weight fell upon each step. A low hung head, his eyes drooped and his skin feeling as if the wind would take it. A headache still remained. A pounding, aching headache that built up and left on its own accord. A bandage was wrapped around his throat, another one covering the right of his skull. His front left leg.

Home.

Is what Gunnar would've told him.

He shouldn't have left for Kvarsheim.
He knew that.
He shouldn't have stayed in Riverclan.
He knew that too.
He also knew that he should've stayed nowhere. He knew that Kvarsheim was far better without his presence. He knew that he felt wrong when he crossed the borders, and how his burning nostrils didn't wish to continue farther. Bonario didn't know what a home was. He didn't know what one looked like. He didn't know how a family could love one another when they were not blood nor mates. He didn't know how he fit. He knew he didn't fit- anywhere.

But something brought him over this day. As the breeze loved his skin and soothed his muscles, he was here now. His drooped eyes were watchful. Melancholic. Bitter, he thought, but that feeling was absent.
And if he knew what longing could mean here, maybe he'd have thought that too.