Twisted Slough II. Caught in the burning glow.

tagging for reference but aw!

As soon as he caught sight of his mountain, he froze. It looked just as impressive from the coast as it did from everywhere else and yet, as he looked at the jagged tooth-like outline of it against a backdrop of grey sky, Revui could only think about the wrong he had committed. His parents did not know the truth—they had no idea he had attacked Speedy  by mistake and it was entirely likely that secret would follow him forever without being exposed—but it did not sit well with him. He had to atone; Revui truthfully believed that this one slight was egregious enough to cause his excommunication. He did not deserve the mountain, he was not good enough, he was not strong enough nor wise enough. One day he might be.

Once he found the coast and had been travelling along it for a day or so, Revui decided he disliked the taste of salt that swarmed his every breath. He stopped to rest by a pool and drink, but found the taste so sharp it curled his lips and burned his tongue, not realizing that the composition of the sea made it unsuitable for sustaining him. He learned swiftly to avoid those puddles; however, his paws soon began to protest from all of his roaming. It wasn't a hard path exactly (the mountain had always seemed so strenuous but exhilaratingly so), but there were barnacles and shards of alien material scattered along the sand and dirt, enough to cut at his usually tough pads until his steps were stinging.

His route took him west and at the first opportunity Revui delved inland. The sensation of the fresh snow on his toes was comforting for a while, and then his paws were numb all over. He crept along until the earth became so soggy with ice that there wasn't anywhere he could turn without plunging in to an unthinkably deep bog; this seemed much worse than the beaches, and had him huffing and puffing and slurring odd curses between his teeth. He spoke in hushed, deep rumbles. The words made little sense to anyone but himself and @Arcturus—it was a child's language, made up between the two boys when they wanted to keep their thoughts between the two of them. Revui was frustrated, wet, and growing colder despite his great mass; he needed to slog at a faster pace if he was to find shelter for the evening, but from the looks of things his poor luck was coiling around his throat like a thick old noose.