morphine

Since coming back to the southern regions of Boreas the phantom hadn't done much exploration. The journey took a lot out of him and there was little desire to venture away from the confines of Ashen. But, Hannibal was not one to dwell in one place for long. Pale paw pads carried his athletic yet slim form through the familiar forest. The same forest where his time in Boreas had began. Memories of Erovrare, Tyranis, Nephthys, and Mordecai filled his mind. Feelings of sorrow and mourning filled him as he maneuvered through the region. No longer were there scents of his loved ones and pack mates. Prey, travelers, and wild scents replaced such. It painted him to think back to those times and what had happened since. Hannibal always imagined that was his low point in life. Yet, things just seemed to get worse.

Steps stopped as the ghoul reached what was once his den. It bordered the river separating the shrine and the forest. T'was an old fox hole held together by the long roots of a massive tree. Pale eyes consumed the sight and visions of his young family residing within came back. Hannibal's eyes seemed to sting slightly as the thoughts of Mordecai and Nephthys. Where could they be? He hoped with all his might that Mordi was alive and well. - With a light shake of his head the male took a seat at the shore of the river. He was about four tail lengths away from the water and his eyes were trained forward. Unmoving the beast sat in complete silence.