Backdated to December 18th — Morning — Freezing fog — 6 ° F, -15 ° C
His paws crunched in the snow, and this time he didn't pay any attention to them. Instead he was stubbornly ignoring them. And maybe he was becoming almost hyper-aware of what each sound his clumsy body was making, but he tried his best to ignore that too. It was zoning out that had gotten him into trouble last time, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure it would never happen again.
He stomped forward through the fog, closer towards the silhouette of a tree. Distantly he could remember there being a weird pond-river thing by it. He just had to cross it to get back to where he saw Victoria and Avery days before. His pace picked up, because Vic was good at figuring out stuff that he didn't want to. And Avery - well, Cottongrass always got the feeling that he and the smaller male were more alike than anyone would ever think. They both panicked, a lot. Except he wouldn't admit that to anyone ever.
The ice was right there, coming into view and his spirits were brightening for one tentative moment. Except his paws didn't even each the ice before he fell. It happened in the blink of an eye - one second he was shuffling forward and the next he was down in the snow. Whatever fragile dam of hope that was keeping his emotions in check broke, right then and there.
His encounter with Rigel was wrong. Leaving Vic and Avery even for a little bit was wrong. And Cottongrass - he was the wrongest of them all. He didn't move from his position on the bank near the twisted tree. Instead he just sulked. Nobody was even around to pity him, and he'd probably have to shuffle all the way back just to get his well-deserved sympathy.
The east was his new worst place.