Despair enclosed Pluto with a wholeness he hadn't known since laying in the depths of Kronos' stomach. Days, weeks passed by and he hardly noticed. Moons of quiet vigil, waiting, hoping, but she never returned. Some part of him was so sure her pure light could not possibly have been extinguished, but time moved on and the land grew more hostile. He didn't need divine blessings to feel that, to receive unbidden dreams by some unfamiliar force.
But did he care?
Not in the least. This world and its inhabitants, himself included, could drown in plague and sorrow and he'd not bat a golden eye.

The dark king didn't know when he finally pulled himself from the cairn and left. There was no fanfare over the grave he'd decorated in flowers every day since it's construction, no goodbye to its inhabitant, no conscious decision to walk away and not return. One day it was simply too much... too hard to linger over the sad spectacle, Ember kept insisting he was hungry, and Hades himself felt the bubble of wrath eating its way free from sorrow.
Not even his subconscious wanted the remains of Persephone's mortal vessel to see him in such a state.
He didn't pick a direction, he had no goal, and genuine thought rarely broke up the monotonous daily routine he'd found himself within. It was soothing, almost, to lose himself in the instincts writhing in the mind of the wolf; to get a little better at hunting, at shutting off the part of him that was disgusted at the activity, at running for hours on end with little rest. He felt alive in all the ways that didn't require him to make decisions any harder than what spot could be comfortable enough for some sleep. Somehow, he still heard the wail of grieving souls in the back of his mind. He thought, now, he understood more of their senseless begging for what was lost. Pluto kept wondering what had happened; what could've plucked the soul of a goddess from even a mortal body, why hadn't she returned, could she not because Thanatos wasn't the one to collect her? Who had? Was she... stuck?
Some days, he imagined she was watching him. Only part of the time did it make him feel better.

The murky man drifted through the sequoia forest with unhurried, unbothered steps, largely aimless. He was guided mostly by Little Ember; the diminutive screech took them where there seemed to be plentiful food, and had taken to pointing out larger beasts in which the god could take down. At first, he had assumed it laziness on the birds part, but eventually realized his companion was keeping his stomach full when it became apparent he wasn't bothering to tend to himself.
He didn't know where the red little bastard was currently, but he carried on nonetheless. The little troublemaker hadn't lost the wandering ghoul yet, he'd find Pluto as he always seemed to. There was the scent of other wolves in the distance, many other wolves. Must've been a pack nearby -- the green-haunched beast wondered if they were sentient, or if they were.... feral? Was that the word? Quickly, he lost interest. He'd always been far too used to being alone, and there was nobody in any world that could replace the way his heart ached for Persephone. The rage bubbled quietly in the back of his mind, unplaced, frustration growing.

A single caw echoed through the redwoods, and Pluto sighed, recognizing his companions needy calls. Not specifically prey, but a wordless begging he'd come to know. What could the little bastard have found? A dull roar echoed ahead, but the sound didn't compute until, following the sound, Pluto came across a waterfall plunging from a mountain cliff into a lake below. Along the shore Ember held his wings high in excitement to see the approach of his friend, and, expectedly, motioned to the fish darting below the surface.

You can fish, too, you know, the stygian lupine growled half-heartedly, eyes soft, and settling along the shore. To the birds credit, they were rather large fish, and with another glance beside him --suspicious at the lack of returning quip-- realized Little Ember was wet. One lip quirked in a small smile, and the screech tittered indignantly. Hades only chuckled under his breath, and the first catch went to the little bastard, who squawked wretchedly until the larger beast had also killed it for him. Spoiled brat, he thought fondly as he scooped his own late night snack out of the lakes still waters to the happy peeps of the messily eating avian.

He laid there in the dark and chewed each small bite of his own absentmindedly, losing himself back into waves of numbness and remorse, staring at the black surface of the lake reflecting the midnight sky.

The seer's days were troubled.

His vision had come to pass, the foggy figures that had surrounded his uncle turned out to be a pack. Vikings, merging with the saint's, creating a larger pack. The seer should feel at home, at peace, but he doesn't like the feel of Nyra's children. The spirits are angry with their presence, as if they were haunted.

But....he had no where else to go, not really. He would wait, and he would see, what would come of it.

But still, the yearling would wander, losing track of time, enjoying the quiet of the night away from Jakten. To a waterfall, it's roar hiding the screeches and chatter of the older wolf and owl from him until he looked up and across the way at the lake side. Startling, almost, coming out if his wandering trance. halló he called out, louder than he would usually to be heard.

There was something...sad, about this man.

Pluto was so wrapped up in his own misery, he didn't notice the ghostly figure across the way for quite a while. He wasn't used to seeing other lupines, and he couldn't tell what their size relation was... but they looked tall. Hell, he could barely figure whether it was a male or a female, nose twitching as he tried to sift through the jumble of instinctual knowledge. Guy? It probably didn't even matter. They were stalking along the other side of the lake, and Pluto just told himself to keep an eye out, but that it was probably just some feral beast. The dark god bent his head to take another bite, seeing the other figure come to attention all of a sudden and glance this way. Fuck -- was this going to be a problem?

The surprise was mirrored on Pluto as the greeting fell in the chilly air between them. He looked up sharply, ears turning back, and simply stared for a moment. Ember, who hadn't been paying attention, gave a startled screech and abandoned his meal to flutter onto Pluto's back. The man rolled his eyes as he threw the bird a dirty look and stood, tail held awkwardly straight out behind him and head high.

Halló, he returned, offering a respectful tip of his head, I... hope I've left enough space between myself and the nearby group.

If he could smell there were others, it made sense they might've smelled him. And this guy, he certainly smelled like them. Why did dogs focus so much on smell? Was he too close to be polite, by wolven standards? He didn't know how this shit worked.