Whitefish River You got to make me

This is set on the 29th-ish I think. Tag is for ref.

Mal had lurked near the borders for much of the rest of the day, hoping @Cupid was going to turn back. But as night approached and there was no sign, Mal headed off after him. He couldn't have been serious, could he? Mal had to try again. He followed Cupid's trail most of the night before zonking out somewhere (he honestly wasn't sure by that point) sometime mid morning. Once he woke, more bleary following followed. Mal went all the way to where the scent trail turned towards the borders where another pack was, and that was the point at which Mal halted. Why them? Why not his pack?

The speckled man reversed course back to the river where he started to wander rather aimlessly. He couldn't go back to the pack like this, that he knew. As evening fell again, his mood had changed from empty and confused to genuinely angry. It had been a while since Mal had gotten properly angry -- or at least more than one of those times where it'd burn out in a few minutes. No, he was smoldering in it. It was the sort of mood where he maybe just looked annoyed, but if you handed something breakable, he'd probably chuck it at a wall in under a minute. It was completely unfair. He'd offered everything he could think of, tried every way of convincing him Mal could think of.. Nope. It wasn't fair to anyone and he couldn't fix it.

Instead he just prowled around in the darkness, again asking why. What was he going to do?