Walk | Talk | Think He was still feeling down on himself after the pack meeting though he knew now that things would change. He promised himself as well as those of Threar that he would make a difference, whether they knew of it or not, and he intended to keep to his word this time around. This was a second chance of sorts, a means for him to pick himself up from the rut he had fallen into, dust himself off, and try again. They were good wolves, kind wolves, and he wanted more than anything to do right by them. And that involved kicking his own butt into gear. But the first thing he wanted to do was get himself in the right mentality for it. No more negative thoughts, just positive thinking and progress from there on out, and he sought out a place where he could clear his mind. It was the first traveling he had done since arriving in the east to live in Threar, the first time he had set foot outside of their borders, and what he found seemed about right. It was a cliff side, cold and lacking much color because of the season, but the view was nice and the sun overhead warmed the place comfortably. He took a seat there away from the edge, feeling the wind that flew in off the waters rustle at his coat thick winter coat and chill him just a little, somewhat like the north winds used to. This...this would be a good place to think. And so he did. He drew in a breath and released it slowly, in a quiet sigh as he gathered his thoughts. Fighting. It had been his goal from the start, the path his mother had taken and the one he knew he would follow in. He might have been timid, might have been more of a pushover than anything, but in this he was certain and wanted to stick with his conviction. He was going to train as much as he could, learn everything that he could, and use those newly acquired skills to help the pack that was slowly becoming his new family. I can do this, Miksa thought to himself, gazing over the cliff and beyond at the horizon, I won't let their kindness be for nothing.

Starling decided to go for a walk, mainly because there was really nothing for him to do in the winter. Motif was getting more and more pregnant so it made fight training harder and more scattered. He knew it would have to end soon, she would have her children and Starling would be off towards Sonticus for training. This was his chance to learn all he could, to become the master he needed to be...to make his father proud. He almost didn't want to leave, though. He missed his parents, missed his sisters, and soon he'd miss his brothers as well. But he needed to learn more, and the best way right now would be to go to Sonticus. So, he went for a walk. It was odd, he hardly ever left the pack unless he was herb hunting, so why he had decided a set of cliffs would be good for his first solo outing was...weird. But it made a tad bit of sense, didn't it? Somehow. With a gentle sigh he'd step along the stones on his more elegant paws, blinking when he saw a stranger. For a moment he wanted to turn away, to bolt from this wolf, but another part of him wanted so desperately to be brave. So he took a step forward and cleared his throat. "H-hello?" He whispered, tilting his head slightly as he moved towards him. "Burn Baby Burn" "Italian"

Walk | Talk | Think Miksa was so distracted giving himself his own internal pep talk that he failed to notice the younger individual creeping up on his location. His bright, yellow eyes stared distantly ahead, the voice in his mind continuing its positive speech as his unknown company crept closer and froze upon realizing he was not alone. It took the quiet greeting of the youth to draw the thoughtful future-fighter from his thoughts, and as he blinked to clear his mind Miksa turned his head to see the boy standing off to one side, looking quite shy and, if he was being honest with himself, like he himself felt on most days. "Hey." He answered in a gentle, quiet voice, the word slipping from his lips almost without his conscious awareness of it. Something about this meeting felt odd to him, and it took him a moment to figure it out. Often times, Miksa was the shy one, the quiet one, the timid creature that hardly knew how to carry on a conversation. He knew he was being completely presumptuous in his assumption, but he almost felt like he had suddenly come face to face with a kindred spirit. Just from the look of the kid and his stance made Miksa question which of them was truly the most socially nervous, and for a startling change he thought it was not himself but his company. And it surprised him to no end. "I'm Miksa," the white wolf ventured to add, for once offering up his name before it could be asked for. He sat still, calmly, and watched the other with a patient, curious stare as the boy approached, thinking he ought to ask a question of the boy to strike up a conversation but finding none came to his mind that he deemed satisfactory.