His wife had left some cheerless morning perhaps a moon or two ago; they had not lived upon the Plateau long. He should've seen it coming. Quail had been a sulking submissive type and he had forced intimidated her, caught her off guard. His failures were self-created. He was not surprised, but he was disappointed.
Life at the Plateau was comfortable. Too comfortable for the likes of him, and predictable, too. So without a second look towards the pack he was abandoning, he threw a howl to the air by way of departure. So long.
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