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The last time Maelstrom had been on Tidewalkers land was, to say the least, a bit of a disaster. Growing up, Storm had always been prone to rather wild mood swings -- but never before to the point that he had reached during his last argument with Bitterleaf, the tribe's leader and matriarch -- and his grandmother. Storm couldn't quite remember what had started the altercation in the first place -- too often that was the way with his mood swings, especially the more intense ones. The end, unfortunately, was all too clear in his memory. His anger had gotten out of control and he had destroyed one of the tribe's caches of food -- an action which had gotten him practically kicked out by Bitterleaf and his mother, Waterside. Rather than face the consequences, Maelstrom had left of his own accord.

So it is a bit nervously that Storm crosses the familiar boundary marking on a remote edge of the Tidewalkers land -- a flat line turning into a waving one to symbolize where the land meets the sea. It is late, and hopefully no one will be patrolling this remote scrap of land tonight.

He does not, at first, notice the dark shadow moving towards him up the beach -- although whether this is because he is no longer used to looking for such things or because he is distracted by his own nerves is unclear. The voice, familiar, questioning, gives him pause. A shudder runs through the buck's flank and he stops in his tracks. Emotions ripple through him and he struggles to keep them in control.

"Th..Thousand blows?" Maelstrom almost stutters, his tone meek. "Is that you?"

Maelstrom winces at the mental picture evoked of Bitterleaf and Waterside as angry hornets. It is an analogy that is, as Thousand's usually are, quite apt. He is in one of his mild moods, however, and he extends his nose to touch the tip of his sister's in greeting. His body language is as subservient and apologetic as he can make it. "How is the tribe faring? Our mother? And the rest of our siblings?"

The buck looks out to sea, remembering his last encounters with the family. Flint had always been the most tolerant of his mood swings, but his brother's often caustic attitude had seemed to be a bit of a trigger for some of the less savory bits of Maelstrom's personality. A muscle twitched in his neck. "He's still up to the same old tricks, then?" He laughed, once, a cynical sound. "It always amazes me how he manages to walk right on the line of Bitterleaf's patience and not cross over." His eyes flick to Thousand's knowingly. "Probably because he's got you and Thunderstruck around to keep him under control."