Rosewater Oasis papa was a rolling stone

In the aftermath of his — experience — with the dark-furred man, Panacea had fled. He'd meant to return to the coast, but — not now. Not yet. He couldn't bring this with him, this sense of being irrevocably tainted in some way he could not put to words.

The strange agitation had faded from him and left him feeling oddly hollow. Panacea was still unaware of the consequences that might come from the encounter; he knew only that it had been terribly out of character, and that in itself was unsettling. Enough to see him wandering until he found himself in a desert; a wasteland, to his eyes. There was hardly any water to be found.

The oasis, then, was a welcome sight. Even the presence of a stranger couldn't put him off of it. Panacea kept a distance between them nonetheless as he approached the water's edge, dipping his head to drink for a moment before he shot a curious glance at the other wolf. He seemed... sad.

Hey, He finally broke the silence a bit awkwardly. You alright?