The rays of the summer sun were burning down on his back and his mouth was dry. At least his soles didn't hurt and his muscled never ached long, accelerated healing be blessed. His point of destination was coming into visual range and when its silhouette was clearly visible he stopped. Just standing there on the roadside, his tongue lolling at the side, he started to actually think for the first time that day.
Why him? It had been his wish that he would never return to this cursed town, but wishes never come true, do they? And orders are orders. It was clear and simple: go in, investigate and negate the problem. If you cannot, come back and report. He had vowed to obey the orders given to him and he was ordered to return here. So there was nothing he could do except to set his hairy ass in motion again.
Not to come by any sort of transportation was his way of trying to cope with the situation at hand. He figured that the physical effort of being on the road for days would ensure that he was powered down to a sufficient degree – so he wouldn't have the energy anymore to go rampant when entering.
This place contained too many painful memories for him, memories he didn't want to wake, and the being he was now – the being he had become – was nowhere near as good at beating down ones feelings as the one he was born as. The stronger emotions he now possessed – connected with the lower inhibitions of his kind – already caused his mind so much turmoil that he was hard pressed to keep it in (even in his exhausted state), using all his remaining mental strength not to scream out loud.
But keeping it in he did, every minute of the way he made into town. His turmoil sending shivers down his new body instead. Luckily the up and down movements of his long-legged shape covered these shivers well.
He focused more and more to keep calm, shutting down all unwelcome memories by simply focusing on the task ahead. By the time he had reached the town limit and entered the place of his birth he felt calm enough not to attract unwelcome attention with his actions.
After a short time he reached the first sidewalks and decided to use them, to better "hide in open view", so to say.
From time to time someone noticed him, but he just trotted further along, not caring whether the people wondered what a collarless "dog" was doing around here, walking alone on the sidewalk during the middle of the day. After all if it was a dog that moved on the sidewalk, his owner must be around. Not that they didn't have other things in mind anyway.
Some small part of him did wonder why nothing had happened yet to deal with the situation, as the council – what was left of it – must have already figured out what was going on here by now. But then again, their main experience in dealing with what they call – what he used to call – the supernatural was more or less limited to vampires. So if the reason he was sent here was not one of the walking dead (and he was dead sure of it, because otherwise he wouldn't have been sent), they might not be able to deal with it, not in time at least.