He leaves without a word, without a note or a care for the person he just hung up on. He leaves the car keys on his desk. The computer is left on and when the phone starts to ring again he isn't there to answer it. The ravens don't follow. They remain perched in the skeletal branches of an oak tree that had lost everything to winter's frost.
The wolves are more restless. Pacing the length of house, the yard and the long driveway that lead out to the road that they dare not tread on.
Odin's an old man, an older man now as he can't ever remember being young. He moves slower then he ever did before and even a thought said out loud takes more time then it should for him to act upon.