Slade hadn't come here with the intention of finding gravestones; traveling along this path hadn't been in his agenda for the day in the first place. In fact, he didn't even know what the rocks were until he connected the scent with the depressing sights. Whenever he left the territory, there was never a dull moment.

In fact, this whole adventure had started thanks to a dream that concerned a particular dark-colored wolf with a dagger who had given Slade a scar. The coyote and the brute had been enemies since meeting, and though at their last meeting Slade had bitten Jaden, he was still unsettled. Jaden had mentioned that he was going to join a pack; Cercatori d'Arte hadn't had to be graced with his presence yet, so Slade assumed that his rival had ended up in either Cinnamon Dreams--that probably wasn't the correct name, but Slade couldn't remember--or Dahlia de Mai.

His dream about Jaden hadn't been a nightmare nor a wonderful fantasy of burning Jaden's fur off, but instead a garbled mess of nonsense that involved the black wolf in some way or another. Jaden was the only part of the dream Slade remembered upon waking from it, and since he couldn't fall asleep again the coyote figured he'd explore a bit, maybe head east for a change and sniff around the borders of another pack; which pack it was, exactly, Slade wasn't sure, but he had a feeling he'd pick up Jaden's scent if the brute had been nearby either way.

Thus the coyote ended up leaving his den before dawn that morning to see if he could pick up any traces of Jaden's whereabouts. He wasn't sure what he'd do if they somehow managed to meet again, but either way it gave him something to do.

After a quick hunt, Slade made his way east, soon coming upon a town where nature had almost completely taken over. Houses had never interested him, so he moved on, eventually reaching yet another area overgrown with foliage. Once reaching the area, Slade took a quick sniff of the air; there was no trace of Jaden, but the scent of a pack's border was nearby. He also picked up a very faint scent of something rotting. Lovely.

Slade was about to turn around and head back when something caught his eye: a smooth chunk of stone, only a small bit peeking out from behind some shrubs. Well, it was something to look at; approaching the curious thing, the coyote did his best to pull out the obstructing plants and found that, very faintly, there was something engraved on this odd smooth rock.

Squinting uselessly to get a better look, Slade couldn't make out much more than a name he wasn't sure how to pronounce. He also happened to notice two years engraved toward the bottom, with the letter B before one and the letter D after the second. It took him a few minutes to realize that those were dates of birth and death.

A shiver went down his spine. Slade had never been one to believe in the supernatural, but the thought that he was standing with the dead disturbed him nonetheless. Looking around at the clumps of foliage, Slade wondered if there were suspicious stones behind every one. Oh... lovely. He wasn't sure what this area was called, but he didn't like it. Had anyone noticed him poking around? Maybe he could make a nice quiet escape....