His mane was growing ever longer.. it was the mark that too much time had passed, so much time and yet he had still failed to do that which he had come to do. This was too much unlike him. He had traveled down this path of the mortals only to find that he may not belong here either. It was a harsh thing to realize that he just might have no one to belong to. It was such a thing that was growing ever tiresome in his mind, but Mishaelion knew that he had much more to do before he might be able to settle down and start his own family.
He had heard whispers that had troubled him greatly. First it was whispers of his tribe that had somehow realized a downfall, resulting in many of his kin befalling death. The other was that his brother and cousin had both found families to which he almost felt he no longer had one. He knew he shouldn't be, but this almost made him jealous. Musing, Mishaelion moved back just as the sun was beginning to set over the mountain top. Could he at least meet them once? Just to know he still had family somewhere out there...?
