[AW] Sam's Town
He could remember running. He couldn’t remember what he was running from but whatever it was he knew it would hurt him and not in the familiar, burning pin of flesh wounds. No, whatever he was evading carried a pain that he knew he would never recover from, a pain that would render him helpless for an unforeseen amount of time until he simply couldn’t function anymore. It was the pain that put the fear of god in the hearts of every warrior, a pain that couldn’t be mended. The raw pain of emotional loss, of heartache, and of grief. That was why he ran.
He awoke to the sound of strange birds chirping, and insects buzzing amidst a choir of bull frogs. How he had come to the pond was a mystery although in the faint recesses of his mind he could remember the stinging burn of exhaustion on his legs the day before. He stretched out his paws in front of him, letting his joints pop and snap as he worked the sleep from his body. He still smelled faintly of brine and fish, although he had spent a good portion of the previous day following the river and had even stopped once to wash himself since coming ashore. He drank from the pond and shook out his fur, a hungry yawn climbing from his jaws as he did. Since arriving in this strange new place he hadn’t seen hide or hair of another wolf and for a moment he began to wonder if this place had met a similar fate as his previous home; slowly abandoned and left to rot by vagrants until nothing remained. “No” He assured himself, the scent of wolf was far too strong and far too prevalent to be abandoned. Rather than wait to be met he tossed back his head and howled a deep, low moan, calling for anyone nearby to make themselves known
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