He nosed a firefly that blinked past his muzzle, and stared up at the sky, contemplating the desert in which he came from. This thought came up occasionally, and often, he would shake the thoughts off. But tonight, they seemed to overtake him like a sandstorm. He folded his legs to rest in the musty leaves to think; all the things he'd almost forgotten were brought back as if they'd never gone. He felt a tear or two slide down a cheek, and contemplated his mother and father, and the friends he'd left behind, still prancing around hot, soft sand, and bright, expansive dunes under the sun. He remembered a small memory of cold-him discovering a cactus for the first time, and felt himself huff once in mild humor. He thought of the chance he'd gotten to visit with the obelisk, and suddenly felt a deep sadness.
The Ache had an awful madness, and it was almost physically painful in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to go home and at least visit. He wanted to tell them all the amazing things he'd seen here in the swamp; the large, moss-dripping trees, the deep muck and glowing mushrooms, the friends he'd made in Mirewood and Bad Feeling and the tiny rare jackalope who tagged along his heels. He thought of his adventure to the obelisk again, when Mirewood had allowed her wolf Outcry to accompany him. He'd been the inspiration for him bonding with the jackalope, and he found the corner of his mouth quirking up at the memory.
Memories passed by like dreams. Some were sad, most were happy. Surprisingly, the happier ones were regarding the swamp and how he would love to share his stories about here one day to back home. He found the sadness beginning to ebb.
"That is a vow I will make now. Someday, somehow, I will find a way to return home a second time. I will tell my family and friends my adventures here, and hopefully they will be proud, not sad, at my leaving." He smiled, watching up at the stars.