So little had Tyr been able to explore the lands he now called home - bouncing between an orchard and a willow grove much of the time, the calm beauty of the two places awakening an answering calm in his own tormented heart - and there was still so little that he knew of the other wolves who made it their home. He'd finally made his way to the north, slowly meandering his way back down the land to find his way here. A new territory, the pack boundary markers were, perhaps, not so obvious as in a long-established territory, going far to explain Tyr's ignorance of the fact that he was, in fact, trespassing. The little wolf blithely limped his way along, thinking only of returning to that small measure of peace he'd found among the willows. The bones of his spine and hips stood out starkly through his thin pelt, but he didn't stop to hunt here. Long experience with hunger had made it easier to ignore it, and he could try his newly learned fishing skills once he made it back there. If he made it back - having never left the core of his family's territory, he had never really learned to navigate, and his poor sense of direction was making it difficult to find his way around these strange lands.
