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They walked together, steps perfectly match, breath almost the same. They were mostly silent, except for the occasional softly spoken word, the casual remark. There really wasn't much for them to say. It was a lovely day and they were together; that was enough.

For The Killing Moon, there was also many thoughts crowding through his mind, but he cherished the peaceful, non-complicated nature of their relationship enough that adding his feelings to the moment seemed unnecessary. It was merely that ache again, anyway. In the grand scheme of things, it hadn't been that long at all since he had left his family but long enough that he felt the tug to return constantly. Even his newfound and cherished freedom from responsibility was not enough.

It would ease in time, he told himself, and for now at least he had Ember to keep him sane. Though it wouldn't be long until he bid her goodbye as well and he would seek out the dark corners of the Swamp alone.

The background birdsong finally intruded and the buck’s ears flicked forward, but not the gentle lulling tunes from before, no, this was something in pain. Fate, the wolf walking ahead, did the same. The great canine glanced backwards at the Kimeti and then spend up the pace, instinctively shifting into a predators stance.

When Killing Moon and Ember found the struggling bird, Fate was opening his jaws.

"Leave it," the buck ordered, without quite knowing why and the wolf instantly backed away.

It was pointless to let it live.

The Killing Moon was a hunter. One life taken to sustain another; that was the way things were. Many beasts and birds had fallen to him in his quest to keep the tribe well-stocked and he had never thought twice about it. There was always respect for those whose lives were taken, but he wasn’t going to lose sleep over it, and that he would hesitate now and deny his wolf a meal spoke greatly to his inner turmoil.

The bird’s wing was clearly broken and it barely moved from its place in the dirt, choosing instead to use the last of its energy to give a pained wail every few minutes. If it didn't die now, it would die later. Unless he spent days nursing it back to health, a most unappealing suggestion, it was nothing but still breathing food. Ending it now would be a mercy.

Yet he still hesitated.

"It’s not what we should do that’s the problem," The Killing Moon answered, his gaze never leaving the wounded bird, "I know exactly what we should do."

He looked towards Ember, with the blood on her nose and her eyes distant, like the still-pool that reflected your face and gave nothing away of what was within. There was probably something here, in this moment. If he studied it carefully, he could look deeply into himself and deal with whatever errant emotion was running rampant across his heart.

The bird forced itself upright, hopped a few paces and then stopped again, its little chest struggling with the rapid breaths.

He sighed, stepping towards Smoldering Reverie and casually licking the blood off her nose.

"Take it," he said.

The wolf surged forward and the bird was gone with one last squawk and a shower of feathers.

He said nothing, but the way he shifted against her touch, seeking more contact, was all either of them needed. He found solace in her silent offering and her friendship was enough to soft quaver of… what was it? Terror perhaps. The last tug of home, his foalhood self giving its last whimper just like the bird. It wasn’t as if he would never return, but leaving his family behind, knowing the seasons would turn and with them his children would grow knowing nothing of him but what they had been told.

It was the regret. Yes, that was it. Ah, now it made sense.

There was probably more, but he could take his time working through each emotion. But the first thing he must do was go further, deeper into the unknown. It was time to leave Ember behind as well. Echo and Fate would still follow at his heels, but they were as part him now.

"I am well, don’t worry, but it’s time we parted. It will be a long time until I see you again," The Killing Moon murmured softly.

He was in no rush to end the moment, so let it stay as it was, felt her breath against his skin warm every other part of his body. She chased away the last of his doubt with nothing but her trusting nod. They would part but they would see each other again, just as he would see his family again. This new path was simply diverging, winding away from the life he had known. It was only when the ever-patient Echo came to brush against his legs that he finally stepped away.

The Killing Moon gave one final nod, tossed his head back and was gone. The Eaglehound and Wolf raced after him, and later, a jellyfish drifted idly by.