The past few months had really given Darkmoon things to think about. Until he came to Relic Lore, he had actively avoided social interaction, especially after his fallout with Xolea. That saga had damaged his opinions of other wolves, and he was sure he would never think kindly of another of his kind again; and yet, he had met and made acquaintances, and for the most part those interactions had been positive and beneficial for him. He was confused and bewildered, but deep down he was glad for it - though he would never tell anyone. That is not to say that he was a changed wolf - he was still bitter, cold and resentful - but slowly, things were changing, and his heart was beginning to warm to the idea of companionship and, maybe, for the first time life in a pack.

As the rain fell heavily on him, however, these positive thoughts were far from his mind. All he could think about was how he was cold and wet, and the stones beneath his paws were slick and unsteady. What crazy notion it was that had caused him to take this path down the mountain, he had no idea, but he was definitely regretting it. He had already had some heart-pounding slips and stumbles, and he was wondering whether or not it was too late to turn back; but looking back up the way he had come, he decided it was not worth the effort. He sighed and looked back down the way he was going. Oh well, he thought.
    Darkmoon went on this way for a bit, before spying a figure below him, going to the opposite direction. He did not expect to see another wolf coming this way, and in his shock his attention was diverted momentarily from what he was doing. He placed his paw unthinkingly onto a slippery bit of moss, and he leg shot out from underneath him, send his whole body toppling forward, down the boulders that served as a path up the fjord. As he tumbled, he caught a glance of the wolf who, unfortunately, was straight ahead; and, shutting his eyes tight, Darkmoon waited for impact.

Darkmoon groaned as he pushed himself back onto his paws. He looked down at the drop before him, and shuddered to think what might have happened if the wolf had not been in his way. Turning to regard her, he caught the end of her comment and he clenched his teeth in anger fueled by embarrassment. What a way to make a first impression, he thought, and he tried to tell himself that it did not bother him. What did he care what this wolf thought of him? He grunted in response to her question. He shifted his weight from leg to leg, and winced as his bruise muscles protested. He was exhausted anyway from the descent and the day's travels, and cold wet did not help him feel any better.
    "Er, sorry," he ventured, deciding that formalities were the way to go from here. Darkmoon could not help but feel a little responsible for what had happened, but given the conditions he felt he was not entirely to blame. Besides, she should not have been in the way. "I didn't expect to run into anyone else," he said offhandedly, trying to displace any wrongdoing on his behalf, although he was sure it was obvious what he was trying to do. He looked at the ground sheepishly, hoping to avoid eye contact with the wolf so that they might go their separate ways without further delay.