Hideaway Strath bang the old hollow rubber ball around.

Trapped.

In spite of the tumultuous first couple weeks of his life, Figment had thus far lived a very happy, uneventful life. He had never wanted for anything. The moment he'd lost his birth mother, his aunt had stepped in and filled that hole so completely that he never even wondered about the woman who'd created him. The moment he'd been uprooted from his natal pack, he had been transplanted to a territory that provided him with even more sustenance and security than he'd had before. At every turn where it seemed as though he would hurt, he had experienced added joy. He had lived a charmed life indeed.

Until lately. First the earthquakes, then Fennec, and now this landslide. Figment wandered listlessly through the territory, dismayed and uncertain. His daily activities had once upon a time consisted of protecting the borders or protecting his sister. Now, their borders were buried in rubble, and Fenn was lost. He didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't know how to be helpful. He didn't know how to protect the things that he no longer had. Would it really have mattered anyway, even if they came back to him? He had already failed.

Fig heaved a deep sigh as he paused on his path. A tree limb had fallen across one of his regular trails, likely from some recent tremor. It was large and likely heavy, but with nothing else to do, the young wolf went ahead and grabbed it between his teeth and began the arduous task of dragging it out of the way. Fenn might not be with them anymore, but Fig still harbored hope that she might come back someday. So, he would keep her trails clear for her. Just in case.