Neverwinter Forest Who thinks of a world that is just make-believe

A patchy set of borders had started to appear around the fringes of Neverwinter.  If you could even call it that -- it was the work of a single wolf.  Mal had been doing his best, but there was only so much time in a day and only so much ground he could carefully traverse and mark while still having time to sleep, eat, and do other such things.  He needed to find other wolves, probably.  But who would even be worth dealing with?  He was supposed to have his sister here -- hell, ideally having both sisters here would have been nice, but with both of them gone, it was merely a dream.

He was pretty sure this wasn't how anyone wanted their life to be, but he'd do his best with the cards that had been dealt to him.  His fate was to be alone, to create his only little corner of the world on his own because no others had bothered to try -- no others were worthy.  Now, as the sky darkened and the day drew to a close, rain threatened.  He stood under the trees as a solitary ghost, wondering for a few moments before turning and heading towards a section that hadn't gotten his attention.