Hephaestus had been more withdrawn than usual of late. His mother was gone... he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye and now she was going off somewhere and she was hurt, sick, could die... there was nothing he could do to help her and he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. He'd been pushing himself in his anxiety to prove himself to his family, to show that he wasn't going to pull his own weight without his mother's watchful eye. But, he was struggling to find his niche, the thing he excelled in. A less than average hunter, he had to resort to cheap tricks to catch simple prey. He was strong and smart, but though he could patrol a border as well as anyone else he didn't have the heart to want to be a warrior. A healer? He knew nothing about healing, didn't even know where to start, and it wasn't a likely vocation anyway.
He'd allowed his musings to take him on a journey, using the time to think as he moved. Generally he thought better when he could just sit still and think rather than all this moving about, but he needed to be away from the distraction of his family's pack. Slowly he became aware of the ever increasing scent of a pack's scentmarkers, until finally he fetched up against the border as though against a wall. He didn't recognize the scent and had never in fact been here before, so he sat himself down on the outside of the border to memorize the smell and the land. It could easily become necessary to have that knowledge and it would be a useful memory to call upon.
