Northstar Vale i've delivered us to where we are

Titmouse had lost his voice. It was only the second time in the history of forever that this had happened, and the first time it had evaporated willingly. Since the event with the bear he had been unsuitably withdrawn. His emotions were raw, his legs hurt, and he couldn't even raise his head to look around at his new family. The boy tailed after Liffey without his usual oomph and with all the calm and the silence of a newborn fawn; he skittered after her, and the group, when too much space had come between them. That is to say, he was often underfoot (which was normal) but he was silent (which was not).

The boy could feel eyes upon him every few feet. Liffey making sure he could keep up, or Redshank shooting daggers, or any of the other adults staring and blaming and -- well, maybe not, but Titmouse felt intensely betrayed by his own nature. He was simple. The rock had been pretty, he had wanted it - and he'd gotten far more than he could handle in exchange. He had been the cause of everyone's panic, all the injuries, and the exodus from the plains. The bear had been a catalyst - but if Titmouse just hadn't been stupid, hadn't been so.. so... Titmouse, maybe things would've been different.

So he moped. Sliding along beside Liffey or lagging back to where Redshank lurked, or just keeping his feet moving.. And when they collectively stopped, he didn't. The boy skittered along while everyone else paused to catch their breath and look around, and only followed suit when his tired legs gave out underneath him.