Totoka River crooked river

Early Morning, 41˚F, Drizzle. @Reigi

Each step felt wrong and so the last hour had been spent in a fashion of one step forward, two steps back. He wasn't sure what it was that made him feel wrong about his movements. Perhaps it was the foul weather clouding his judgment, throwing his senses off.

He tilted his head up to examine the overcast sky that seemed content to keep a slow rhythm of light raindrops. Rokig figured that he'd be safe for now out here in the open. There was no roar of thunder or crack of lightning to be seen. Which meant this would be a relatively harmless spring storm. He should have been thankful that he needn't flee from the lands to search for shelter. Instead he felt the useless feeling gnaw at him.

Rokig was going to waste his whole morning retracing his steps like some kind of off-beat dancer because he couldn't find it in himself to muster up enough courage to do something productive with his life now. How pitiful of him.

Maybe he was cursed.