He had left them. Did that make him an awful person? His parents were hardly the greatest examples in the world he had come to realise. Biologically, Isardis was his father and there was little good Kismet could say about him. His mother he had always cared for however but she had vanished once more. What was her reasoning now, did she have one? And Sarak, the man he had viewed as his father, it'd taken him almost a year to meet his children. What role models were they?
There was a difference. Kismet had a pack he needed to return to and he had informed them all of where he would be how they could find him if they needed him. He hadn't simply vanished from their lives, he had left them with their own choice. They could come and meet Rune if they wished to join or find their own path elsewhere as he had. He would be there for them as much as he could but he couldn't leave the pack he had only just joined. Something told him he would never get any respect from Rune if he chose that path.
Much of the journey had passed in a blur on this occasion, head swimming with these thoughts and worries, when he finally paid attention to his surroundings again he realised just how caught up he had been. Night had fallen, the only light coming from the moon above as it appeared from behind the clouds and the soft glow of the waters. The latter likely would have intrigued him more had it not been the clue as to where his feet had carried him. Kismet knew this place, He had visited this area once before, it was here he had first found out about Secretua from Warja. His friend was nowhere in sight now though and there was still a fair journey ahead before he reached Secretua. Time to rest though, not that he was sure the break would do anything to clear his mind.
