It felt odd, to stalk these lands that were not his own. For many months, too many, the male had been on his own. Family was almost forgotten; though they haunted his memories the werewolf could not bring himself to seek out his kin. It was to full of heartache, and the pain was almost subsiding. Heath found little use in opening old wounds. He let his mind grow blank and almost distant as he walked slowly along the coastline.
He had been here before, just beyond the fresh marked boarder of the newly claimed lands. He was unsure what drew him here, though hints could be made to his attachment. His loner title was not a fresh one, and the time of being without the security of a pack showed in his hide. Though naturally thin, Heath was stark and only his lean muscle remained on bones. Come winter, though far off, he would be cold.
The coast hugged his left side, its ragging waves crashing against the rocky shore. The sky above spoke of unease. The gray color unsettled in a way that would only bring on rain and thunder. It rumbled from afar, and his ears strained to hear it above the high tide. Seas sprayed at his face, as it turned to look out onto the ocean. Gold eyes found nothing but the rolling waves, while his mind pictured the sorts of things that lived beneath the unruly grey-blue waters. The lanky hybrid walked on, fists tight and thoughts adrift like gulls in the sea driven winds.