Ocean's Breath Plateau six vices become wrath

For the first day or so Svalinn had been in a residual fume from their plateau expulsion— evidenced by the change from his typical mischievous expressions to a perpetual scowl, and the wooden gait that was a far cry from his usual prance as he jealously guarded Caiaphas and Raleska— but soon after it were as if he had forgotten about it completely. The further they went from the Redhawks, the colder the weather turned, the more rambunctious young Svalinn became.

He seemed unfazed by their predicament, mostly due to the fact he didn't yet truly understand the ramifications of being packless this time of year and therefore had no reason to fear it; but also because the gold minor simply didn't care enough to hold grudges (even if his mother insisted otherwise). He didn't blame the Redhawks for being stupid— they just were. They couldn't help it.

And they were far from his thoughts now, as he wrested the arthropod shell from Raleska and tried to maintain possession of it by out-maneuvering the much quicker hybrid. He didn't realize that Caiaphas had slunk away to potentially confront her nemesis, but when he did finally notice that she had gone a ways down the strand, he dropped the carcass (and the game) thoughtlessly and leaped after her. He couldn't see who she was facing, but her uncertainly agitated body language put him on the defensive right away.

Slowing to a walking prowl, he came up from behind Caiaphas and tried desperately to account for and keep track of everyone else's position at once. It ended up making him look paranoid, as to and fro his head swiveled, ducked, and jerked, incompetently trying to watch out his sister and the three-bitch standoff at the same time.