Sleeping Dragon my heart has always been soaked in rocket fuel and sorrow

Through thicket, branch, and bramble, Eli pursued a singular hope.  Following his nose and what he percieved to be the Spirt's will, Eli made the long journey alone from Seageda at a slow but consistant pace. Now, he found himself in an unfamiliar land, but the familiar trail he followed kept him going. The scent was stronger now more than ever: he was finally catching up. 

Thuringwethill. The name was still but a whisper, echoing in the back of Eli's mind and calling him forward with every step. He had no purpose without her, servitude was his birthright to which Eli carried with great honor. She had been selected with divine purpose... she had made Seageda pure from the corruption that lied deep in it's underbelly— and then, she left without a word or trace. Eli became distraught and followed at the break of dawn. 

Seageda was no more, there was no reason to stay.  His children had grown, his mate was gone, and he felt no tether to the land— only to the Spirit, whom he would serve without ceasing once more. Soon.  The scent of a fledgling claim filled the air and intermingled with it was Thuringwethill's scent.  His journey was over and life could resume once more. His heart filled with joy as he called for her.