Redhawk Caldera I'm free to be the greatest - I'm alive

@Fox and @Raven for visibility :p Sorry to leave y'all, but Trick really doesn't feel happy here anymore

When Trick awoke that day, he knew it was time. After his fight with the Gamma who could not handle her problems, he knew he could no longer stay here. Everything - from the trees to the bowl-like structure, everything brought up too many bad memories. He didn't feel comfortable staying here, and now that winter was not on its worst yet, he knew he had a way to make it out alive if he left to find another home now. He speculated not many wanted new members in the winter, but bragging had always been both a blessing and a curse for him. As long as he could impress (which was with almost anything except for fighting), he assumed he could find something to call home within a few days. Spring would come soon enough, and then he'd even be able to set up a herb den for the pack that chooses to let him in. For a moment did he contemplate returning to the Keep, but he felt more like exploring than returning to a place that had never respected him in the first place.

Lingering before his own den he paced back and forth - his spiky mane bouncing with every step he took. It was not like him to be nervous, but he was it nonetheless as he crawled into his self-dug den. He was going to ruin all the herbs he had dried and stored as revenge - knowing that this place held many healers. He was not a good guy, and since the gamma had insulted him, he would take this away from them. It was not like anyone used his dried herbs anyway. As far as he knew, he was the only one that had used them as the rest licked up poppy powder and got high on apple juice or something. He gathered every single herb and dunked them in the freezing water to drown. Another bunch he buried under some wet sand, and the herbs he could use for some extra stamina on his trip he chewed on. It was a horrible sight for any healer, and it even pained him to look at his hard work ruined like this.

A rabbit he had saved for himself, and he ate the whole thing without a noise as he felt his energy going up. His headache was as good as gone, and he felt ready for an adventure in the snow that could take weeks to finish. Luckily he had become a good hunter, otherwise he would've been screwed on his own. Death was not an option at this point, he felt like, and he was not planning on dying. He would succeed.

With no hesitation he stepped over the borders, knowing no Redhawk would even notice his absence before it was too late and he began running not long after - sending up clouds of snow as his tiny, black frame disappeared out of sight. 

·Wylie refers to himself as Trick. 

· Shakespearean, normal English and a pirate impression.
~Adopt Avalon!~

~1~ ~2~