Dawnlark Plains You'll never be what is in your heart

Veteran was definitely starting to understand Speckletooth a little better. He wasn't really that different from so many other lone wolves out there, desperate to revive the way of life they were taught in their childhood. Veteran's own stepfather had been the same sort of wolf, introducing an unfamiliar religion, rituals, and a strange tongue that he and his mother had tried their best to adopt. 

Perhaps Veteran had misstepped in asking Speckletooth a question that required so much introspection. He could sense he had made the other wolf uncomfortable. When Speckletooth finished off with his pitiable statement, Veteran nodded. 

"My dad led a pack too, when I was little. We lived right up there." He nodded northward, toward the shimmering glacier in the distance. The packlands were deserted now. He had checked.  "I know what that's like. Needing to impress a father." 

He continued, his gaze fixed on the glacier. "What if, when you go back home, everyone is gone?" He swallowed thickly and turned to Speckletooth. "After years and years of wandering around, getting better and better.. you get back to the swamp, and everyone has left. What if you look really hard, but you can't find another swamp, or another pack with your culture? What will you do?" 

Really, the question was.. what should Veteran do?