Overture Downs like somebody somewhere could see

It makes him nervous to be this far away from the tallest Spire of the mountain range, but successful enough hunting keeps pulling him further and further to the east. He's uncertain about his travels so far, especially with the looming fact that he had business to report back to in another month or so that weighs heavily on his scattered consciousness, yet he still lurks on.

He's crossed a creek and then skirted a lake's edge so far. It was there that he had rested and regrouped, trying to keep his thoughts all organized. He remembers Cicero still, as the male is a sharp presence that he has worked hard to ingrain on himself, and then there is the creamy young wolf of the dragon pack. He works hard to keep these memories close to him, even if they are worthless in the long run of things, he's able to find some grounding in them anyway.

A gently sloping meadow pulls him forward with an almost inviting embrace, and the lean wolf is finally able to lengthen out a stride alongside a stream snaking its way towards the unknown. Inari finds brief pause in ambushing a squirrel, and once it hangs slack in his jaws, he feels compelled to travel on a while longer until his hunger catches up appropriately (the morning's rabbit had filled him up well). But instead he begins to meet a familiar dread. The outer hints of a boundary are appearing, and the silver Rikudou's posture starts to crumple already while his appetite shrivels alongside him. He slows and starts to linger, sniffing along with the hopes of understanding what he may be up against.