Blacktail Deer Plateau Regrets collect like old friends

Dante sat where he was, quietly observing the deer herd beneath him. He tracked their movements carefully, most of his attention on the stag as well as those on the fringes of his watch. He noted where the stag's attention lay and where it seemed to miss, keeping such things in mind for their next pack hunt. He had no intentions of attempting a hunt now, knowing he would likely only succeed in scaring them off. Even a group of 2 or 3 would not have the odds that the entire pack would. He would wait.

With a heavy breath he lowered his head to the ground. It was, for the first time in a while, not a sound of frustration, but one of release. He was beginning to get it in his mind that every departure, every move, and every action the pack made was not a reflection on him. It would take a while for the constant need to apologize to disappear, but he knew in time it would. Some things would be his fault, and when those came he would accept the consequences. But he needed to stop beating himself up over things he had no control over.

It was slow, but he was learning.