Otatso Wetlands bad blood

He was desperately avoiding the mountains. Unsure of which direction he had come from, the only recollection the young boy had about mountains was that he had lived on one and that they were bad. If he could, the growing pup avoiding visiting past as much as possible – most of it was still covered in a thick fog, but the bits he remembered were not worth remembering. Pain residing there, and whenever he managed to breach the darkest corners of his mind and part the fog, the hurt was unbearable. Along with the intense pain came a tidal wave of rage, an emotion that frightened the introverted youth. He could not understand the reasoning behind the anger, and why it came so furiously – and when it reared its ugly head, Niklaus Athanasius could not control it. The one memory that stood out among the others – often so vivid that Niklaus felt as though he was reliving it – was that of his parents abandoning him. Confusion consumed him whenever the memory resurfaced, as he did not understand why they had cast him away. What had he done wrong? Was it something he could have fixed? No. It was not worth thinking about. What was done was done, there was no going back. Though the feeling of anger terrified the little shadow, it was one that accompanied the thoughts of his parents. He wanted to feel nothing, as it was the better alternative to feeling all the pain that was festering within him. With his head hanging low, the long-limbed youth trudged his way through the wetlands, his paws having to lift higher than usual to get him through the dark water. In his desperate attempt to avoid the mountains in the distance Niklaus had found possibly the worst territory to stumble upon. His jet black coat clung to his thin body, mud splattering against his legs and stomach, as a frown stained his dark lips. He had traveled through the night as the pup did not know what to expect in this new area. There were a flurry of scents that attacked his nose, blood-red eyes widening as he struggled to differentiate them. All he had ever known was rock and cliffs – aside from the few bush or tree that littered the mountain face. All of this was so new to him and while he should be embracing it, Klaus was brooding (per usual). The sun slowly began its climb from the horizon, illuminating the wetlands and the little shadow – the air was still cool, causing a chill to run down his spine.