Walk | Talk | Think
Miksa was lost.
Not in the literal sense. He knew exactly where he was: in the East, sitting on the beach of the Fontamo Bay, alone with nothing but the sounds of the seabirds and the rush of the waves to keep him company. No, it was not his location that confused him and left him floundering as he tried to make sense of the unknown. It was the events that had transpired to get him here, to make him suddenly alone without a safe direction in which to turn. He had been so sure Threar's troubles were over after they had lost the raid, and had looked forward to recovering from it in order for the pack as a whole to make themselves stronger. But it had only been the practice round, and the real test they had failed.
Threar was gone. Novella and Frith had left with their children, going somewhere that Miksa did not know. As much as he appreciated everything they had done for him, he did not feel right tagging along to the family home they were leaving to, and so stayed behind. Losing everything put in him a bad funk, and for a while he did not travel very far from his den except to hunt something quickly in the forest beside the Falls. By the time he had accepted everything enough to show himself again, he had no idea where the rest of the pack had disappeared to.
He felt lonely, depressed. He missed the pack wolves, their quiet presence all around him, but he missed the feeling of belonging most of all. He had never really been the adventurous type, nor was he ever good at deciding things for himself. Everything that had happened to him thus far had been offered to him by chance or fate. He had been saved once before by staying in one place, having someone come along and give him a new purpose. It seemed silly to think it would happen again, especially because it was so improbable at the time, but indecision, fear, and loneliness prevented him from getting up and setting out to find his destiny. Where did he even begin?
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