He'd left on foot, and walked most of the day, by nightfall all he wanted was food and sleep, the scavenging came easy when the little money he had ran out, unfortunately, his anger began to grow as well. What right did anyone have to dictate what he did with his life, to control who he was, who he saw, who he fucked? He was an adult, his life was his own, or it should have been, now, if only someone would tell that to the Lords, or those running the caern.
He needed not to think about anything for a while, he needed to score, get drunk, both, he could do that, money wasn't that hard to come by if you worked things right, and he'd survived by the skills before. So what if he'd swore never to fall back into those habits, he needed to escape, it'd just be this once...just once.
Once it was done it was nothing to get what he needed and find a place to hide out, so what if it was just an abandoned building, that reeked of garbage and the countless others who'd been there before, it was basically dry, and it gave him a place to get high without too much worry about anyone interfering, that's all he needed.