Wheeling Gull Isle All this sand but only one grain changed me

The sky was growing dimmer and Mal's stomach growled though he was making a point of ignoring it. Now what he should do was to find something edible to bring back to his family, but he was definitely having of of those detached, kind of useless-feeling moments that still lingered. After all, Mal had given up, hadn't he? Not that there'd been much of a choice in the matter by that point, but he'd failed as just about every title he could put on himself and that weighed on his shoulders without much current hope of it leaving.

He was caught up in his own thoughts. Not surprising there either. The time he'd previously spent doing his leadership duties didn't just disappear -- now it had voided into his brain trying to eat itself as he tried to figure out what to do. He didn't know his place in the world any more. So, he had found the most densely forested place that reminded him of home and wove between the trees, trying to partially forget so that he could find his direction again. That or he had to go back to the old standby of forcing a lying smile and hoping that his mood might catch up -- that might be a stretch for now though.