Legolas was always trailing behind.
He had followed his littermate and younger brother back to his birthplace for what reason? Nostalgia? Boredom? Maybe the former, definitely not the latter. Legolas was not the type to just do something out of boredom. That would require far too much spontaneity than he was capable of. He preferred structure; making a plan. He did not do things just for the sake of doing them.
But here he was, back in the lands of Lore, the place where he was born. Where his parents had created a home for themselves and their family. Where they had thrived until they decided it was time to move on. He wondered if they ever thought of returning—if they missed the Surge and the neighbouring territories. His father had seen so much while he had lived here and always seemed to speak of Relic Lore with a smile on his face. As though he was reflecting on all of the memories he had acquired while living in the Lore.
The pale Stark trudged through the snow with his head hanging low as he headed North-ish. He was trying to follow his two brothers but they were a little quicker and little (okay, a lot) more adventurous than he was. But he wasn’t worried. They would come back for him. Hopefully. Maybe.
He swallowed, hard. He had not thought out what would happen if they did not reconnect. Oh… oh no. This was a little troubling.