Barrow Fields Hell isn't simply a place where love doesn't exist.

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With a fond farewell to his father and the promise that he would return home soon, Dacio pointed his muzzle toward the distant Western shores. The sun had just begun to rise that morning as he turned away, regarding Dio over a peppered shoulder with a sheepish little smile. He knew how ridiculous it all sounded: that his late mother had appeared to him in a dream, and he had to follow the instruction she'd asked of him. It was rare that the young Gona ventured beyond Drageda's claim, having never sparked an interest in straying from home like Sequoia had, but he hoped this trip would bring him the closure he so desperately needed.

Ears rotating atop his sterling crown as he stepped from the safety of the redwoods, the silver youth suddenly felt so exposed. He glanced all around him, immediately disliking the open space and being alone, and dipped his head here and there to search the snow for signs of another presence whenever the wind carried unfamiliar scents his way. Dacio paused in his tracks to announce his whereabouts to @Opalia, so she could find him when she was ready with the assumption that she might wish to say her own goodbyes to those she deemed closest.

Pastel eyes glanced almost longingly toward the cliffs at his back, and he huffed a sigh. The young warrior did not know how long it might take to find what he wished to seek, and was loathe to leave home for longer than he needed to. Drageda would fair just fine without him as it did before, he knew, yet the guilt of his departure hung over him like a raincloud. He twitched a whisker and shook his raven-tipped crown, eager to rid his mind of the anxiety that he feared might sway him, and faced his destination once more with a determined stride forward.