Deepwood Weald ten hour shift

Lately, it was easy for him to stay close to home and fly a little low on the radar of things. He felt a reprieve necessary, so withdrew a bit--although never completely, for he would miss the company of his family far too much, and neither were his aches so miserable to warrant it. He was just.. trying to cope, adjust, and keep up while things were stretching tight all across the winter-looming wilds.

Vela was likely gone again for now too, and like it or not, it was hitting him worse this time around. He wasn't sure why, so maybe it was part of what drove him for distraction. Thankfully his nephews and niece were a good source of that, especially while there was so much going on beyond the mountain that warranted the attention of the more worldly wolves.

But today, against the grain of what had been normal, it was for him to range out a bit. He had turned towards the Weald early and by the afternoon's explorations he felt confident that Andraste's wolves of her Courtfall had all moved on (confirming what he knew via others who did roam ahead of him); scents were faded, and he found none worth noting. Neither did it look like they left much behind, but these woods were deep and he was still on the move. This led him towards a trail fresher than all the rest, and obligated by his curiosity, he followed after--for a distance at first, though gradually, he started to hone in on what seemed newer, and unintentionally he kept stalking on closer to the red-furred scout he couldn't see yet for the cover of the trees between them still.