Redsand Canyon The quiet hour

Located at the catacombs. For @Nyra.

 

It had been just over a week since the sweet hellhound had slipped past the boundaries of the Saints claim. Over a week since he had somehow agreed to stay here under Donovan's charge. With an original plan to die by them, he now lived by them. If anything, though he did not agree with their way of living (their agression, wrath, bloodthirst... ) they were maybe the only wolves left who wouldnt look down on him, fear him, hate him. They could understand him, maybe, if some. 

Though Hemlocke had been shyly, as always, silent and to himself. Unlike any other member of the ranks, the Thinman was unable to navigate through their home during the daylight hours. Especially here more so then anywhere. He missed his home in the thick forest of the Bracken. Missed the medical densite he had founded and grew. This place was hot, dry, and the sun reflected harder here then other places. Though quite frankly, it was very much like the place where he had been raised in the Borderlands of Torbine. Ironic, even, that he would find himself here. 

Once nightfall descended, Hemlocke eased himself quietly out from the pack's main densite known as the Warrior's Heart. Directly forth he moved until he reached the catacombs once more. The place which had been where he had met his fate and one of the most prominent decisions of his life. Where he, such a delicate and tenderhearted wolf, had joined one of the most feared and hated packs of Teekon Wilds. 

He sighs, his bloodied eyes turning up to the heavens- black, pitch, savor the small sprinkling of stars throughout. Please forgive me.... He whispers to the Gods, fully knowing they would never hear him out.