Two Eyes Cenote is that it? are you not allowed to talk?

he wanders through the lowlands, his sense of direction disoriented and left wondering as he traverses the strange desert-like lands at night when the air is cool and the stars map out his way.

even if he is uncertain where the stars are guiding him to; but that was half of the adventure, stark assures himself. it was an attempt to soothe the self-doubt that had seeded itself within his mind, making its home in his chest. a sinking, blackhole of a vortex that would devour him if he let it.

so, he pushes it aside. or, he tries to.

his steps slow as the scent of pack grows in strength, the scents of many coalescing into one of unity. he drinks in the scents with flared nostrils, finding none familiar ( but of course he wouldn't! ) and sweeps his pale green gaze for any sign of guardian come to greet him.

a hairsbreadth of a moment; a quick rapid-fire decision made.

he tips his head back and raises his voice in a short to-the-point howl, announcing his presence at their borders.

if nothing else, maybe he could get directions.