Moving away felt like leaving a part of itself behind. It was strange, to be so attached to one place, however unusual it had found it. It thought that it had left behind such a propensity for attachments a long, long time ago. Was this perhaps another affect of the miasma? Fascinating.

It rumbled delightedly, deep within its throat, as it moved swiftly across the narrow strip of plains tucked between mountain and forest. It had to find others. It had to learn more.

It slowed only at the sight of a wolf lying delicately at the water's edge, staring down into the rippling surface. It crept closer, ever silent in its movements, to peer curiously over the creature's shoulder. May I ask what's so interesting?

Another affliction? Though this area didn't feel at all like the last.