Porcupine Ridge birthday in noir

Diane could not be certain, but she thought it might be her birthday. It was the only thing that would explain the sudden and very extreme bout of homesickness she was feeling now. Restlessness plagued her the entire morning and well into the afternoon, and she avoided others so that she might keep reminiscing in her own company. The sun peeked through faded winter clouds, but gave no warmth to her back as she paced dolefully towards nowhere in particular.

Several times, she whined aloud to herself, remembering her first birthday the previous year, and what a marvelous celebration that had been thrown in her and her siblings' honor. Everyone's birthday was an enchanting affair back home—at the very least a feast, if the festivities did not feature dancing in the shallows or howling moonsongs throughout the night—and she missed it, wishing for one last hurrah with her family. With her pack.

Her pack... Her mind came back to the present, back to Porcupine Ridge, and the sad, fresh-faced Theta realized that she had been traveling up into the higher reaches. Glad she had realized her body's intentions before reaching a viewpoint of the sea, Diane turned quietly and began to pad slowly, cheerlessly back down the Ridge's flanks.

Seeing the sea would do more harm than good.