Nothingness is bliss

Recluse had sent out a search party to find Aryn and drag her back home. Why she'd left he had no idea, but he could only presume she'd been spooked by the sickness that had gripped them, or maybe she'd gone looking for his mom. She was dead, he knew that now, and as he slowly recovered he was reminded of that fact. Whatever had happened had been strange and explainable, but he knew for certain it didn't mean his mother was still alive. Once he was no longer leaking strange ooze he felt the crushing weight of disappointment at that revelation - and the pain was only exacerbated by realizing Aryn had fled.

He was alone and he felt betrayed, in the kind of way that made him feel sick to his stomach. His whole life was a perpetual cycle of abandonment and he wasn't going to put up with it any longer. After he sat and mulled over it for awhile he suddenly knew exactly where Aryn would be. It was where she'd first met his mother, a place she'd told him about and he'd vowed to visit one day. That was how he ended up here, stalking through the heavy fog and sniffing fervently at the ground for any hint of her scent. When he found it he held on tight to it, knowing his hazy vision wasn't doing him many favors here; coupled with the fog he was having trouble navigating properly at all. But when he caught sight what he thought must be her silhouette, curled up tightly inside a hollowed-out log, he seemed to forget all about his worsening sight.

His paw snagged on something - maybe a rock or a branch, he wasn't quite sure - and he went down hard with a growl, inches from the log's opening. "Aryn... What the fuck," he started when he finally managed to pull himself upright, his chest down covered in muck now. "Why'd you leave me? You know Recluse is out looking for you? You shouldn't have left. I needed you." He didn't sound angry, not really, but his voice was frantic and concerned. All his thoughts suddenly tumbled out in a disjointed mess as he tried to steady himself on his paws.