Twisted Slough I'm going back to 505

It had been a place of good hunting indeed. Elk had frequently visited the isle for it's lush greenery, though in the weeks before it's disbandment they too seemed to vanish. He wondered quietly what it would look like now as the man began to speak of his family and packs that were forming.

A hint of jealousy - would life have been much different if his father had stayed? If his mother had stayed?

Nevertheless, it seemed the hinterlands wasn't as isolated as it once had been. A wry smile wormed its way onto the boy's face as he began to follow clumsily behind the stranger.

"Hey - old man," he called ahead, "how long have you been kicking around here?" Perhaps he had known his parents, or perhaps not. The stranger seemed truthful enough that any information might satiate his growing curiosity.