Ouroboros Spine nuvakliak

It didn't feel right to put distance between himself and his parents, not now that he was reunited with them again and they could be a family, properly; however, Mojag felt out of place after his return. He could only sit and stew with his thoughts for so long before the wallowing got old (boring, even), and he felt compelled to move - even if it was just to walk the paths or lose his breath in a run.

He eventually found himself among the southern hills. Here, he found scant traces of deer in the area: frozen tracks fixed in the mud, and graze-lines among the trees which might've been from the autumn - he wasn't exactly certain what to look for. It didn't feel as thrilling now that he was older, after what he'd been through on the island.

The wind coursed through the trees and shook snow from where it was perched, and for a moment Mojag was snowed on by a fine mist of powder; after, as silence descended again to the hills and the trees, he watched his breath plume and forgot all about his reason for hiking the area. It was enough to be at peace in the silence.