Arrow Lake when thaw is not below us

He wants to be of use to the pack, but finds it hard to focus. Its always been a struggle - even when Stigmata was alive and teaching his children to adhere to his rules, to become the little soldiers that he desired of them, Mesa tried his very best but felt himself fall short. Without him, he wonders what will become of them - all of them; how will he become a proper warrior without the general to guide him? So, he sequesters himself with his thoughts and works his body for hours. He fights the slopes of the range, wrecks saplings to make himself feel better. Carves small paths in the mountain where before there was nothing. He learns the routes slowly, and comes away from all this effort feeling exasperated, sore, and confused by the strong emotions that brew inside.

Mesa doesn't want to feel what he feels. The anger that his father would be gone, the slowly dawning realization that his denial is not enough. The frustration that's built up to volcanic levels within him, ready to spill over as magma hot rage. Angst, angst, angst, and he's still just a boy - but a boy that doesn't know how to handle the strength of it. Out of desperation he finally relents to seeking out his family and returns to where they congregate, his gait a bludgeoning drum beat, his breath ragged as he careens down one slope or another, as if to threaten the very mountain, take me too! I dare you!