He had traveled since morning. His small mainly coyote form traipsing over fallen leaves and a fall chilled ground. It was odd to have been in his natural, four legged, form. It had been some time since he had used it, and even longer since he wasn’t accompanied by a horse. Either Stark or Lumière were always following, or leading him. The stallion and mare were his constant companions, but even the creatures that understood him best did not want to share his unhappy attitude. It was a feeling of anger and self pity melted into one. He was not surprised that the pale silver stallion or the roam mare had not fought when he left the stables without them.
The city was dead, as it always was, with an eerie silence that surrounded him like a shroud. Distant rain of the past night still clung to the pavement, creating puddles in the cracked cement. Heath walked over them on two paws, gold eyes on the ground and a frown ever present on his face. Black fist clenched, he tried not to focus on the problems he had created for himself and wished for nothing more then to forget. He knew the way to such bliss, the store not far, only a block away. It was his favorite, hidden away down an alley and out of sight. Strolling towards it, Heath walked in the middle of the weather battered road.