Exhausted, he was running away. Would running away be the way he decided his fate? Would he be presumed dead? Would he be branded a traitor for abandoning his post at the most critical moment? He didn’t know.

He had slipped on so many rocks along the path that he had travelled that his feet now felt thinner than he could remember. Worst of all was wandering without knowing where he was going. He would spend the rest of his life denying that he was a former prince. No one needed to know about his principles or his past. Absolutely no one.

He just needed time until he felt like an ordinary person again.

Yǐnlián kept a solemn pace; although he was tired, he tried not to faint from exhaustion or hunger. He didn’t know the area well enough to know what he wanted or who he might find, and that worried him even more.
For a few minutes, he was preoccupied with the idea that he would have everything he needed: water, a bed, jewels and gold. This made him feel sick; he wasn’t like that and didn’t want to be. He had lost something far greater than the gold and jade that had been given to him. He had lost something that no one could ever give back to him.

He stopped in his tracks.

So alone now. The boy who used to give him flowers or crafted ironwork wasn’t there to reassure him.

He really had no one. Would he be able to live like the servants of the nobility whom the kingdom deemed mere servants? How hard would it be to serve a purpose?

"Speak Mandarin"

Tzi roamed toward the highlands, leaving behind the sun-dappled forest and reveling in the open glare of heat upon her back. The sunrise had left her blinking for some time, fighting against the shock of brilliant sunlight, but by mid-morning she had become more tolerant. There had been a chill, settled into her bones, since the moment she had come to this place- only now did she find that she'd perhaps begun to warm. Whether it was due to the passing of time, or to the weather, she did not know.

She ascended through the grassy terrain, comforting herself with the scent of fresh grasses that had fed well on the morning mist before it lifted. The earth was firm-packed, but the stubborn gorse shrubs grew like bristly little islands, green in the leaf and soon to bloom with yellow flowers. She rubbed her whiskers against their coarse branches, and moved forward so they might run and comb through the fur along her back. Little brown leaves folded themselves into her pelt, only to be shaken loose a few moments later as she continued along.

Her comfortable solitude came to an end- as it often did- when she caught first the scent of another wolf on the still air. When she drew in a breath, she thought she scented more...No, she definitely did. These wolves were not Zsokin...But she reminded herself to have hope- the Zsokin lived and breathed still, in the previous realm. There was a chance they had found one another in this era- and a chance she might find them still.

She continued, scenting her way toward the male, pausing momentarily to peer about, over the shrubby landscape, keen to catch sight of him and look for any recognizable markings.

When did his life become so lonely and sad? During those winds that brought back the memories he least wanted to recall, his life seemed so bleak.

Surprisingly, he found someone who seemed as lost as he was. He felt eyes on the back of his neck, and it bothered him constantly. For the former noble prince, that gaze sent shivers down his spine.

With every step he took on the leaves, grass or dry earth, his eyes trembled. If that thing—or that someone—decided that this nobleman would be the one to sate its hunger in order to survive, he wouldn't be able to fight or defend himself against anything larger or the same size as him. For the first time, he felt helpless. There was no one to defend this weak young man.

When his strength gave out, he knew it was time to stop. He didn’t want to give up so shamefully. Whoever is following me, have the courage to show yourself! His voice sounded weak and tired; at that moment, all he wanted was to know who was stalking him through the shadows. Even if it cost him his life or his dignity.
Certainly knew how to tell people what to do and what not to do. The irony nagged at him; deep down, despite denying it, he still had a habit of bossing people around.

The air felt heavier than usual. He strained his eyes, staying alert for the potential threat he believed had been following him.

What an uncertain future he had secured for himself!

"Speak Mandarin"