Spring had sprung.
Cottongrass was slowly going insane.
And that's what was new among the otherwise quiet lands that made up the northernmost reaches of Relic Lore. Because Askan had gotten hurt but he was okay now, and Cottongrass didn't really understand what else was going on. Everyone else in the pack just kept on doing whatever the heck they usually did. Like they didn't feel a sense of restlessness that only grew worse with each passing day like Cottongrass always did. And seeing how it all started the moment he joined Wild Rye Fields thirty days ago—he was getting pretty restless.
There was nothing for him to do! There was nothing he even wanted to do! And maybe that was his own fault because he was the one that decided to mope and sulk while avoiding everyone else when he first joined the pack. But it seemed like a good idea at the time. He thought he was the smartest wolf ever because he couldn't mess up if he didn't do anything in the first place. Except it just meant he went from going on fun misadventures everyday to doing absolutely nothing and it was getting to him. Hell, it was killing him. It had to have been because Cottongrass had never been so bored in his whole entire life.
He spent the first week or two digging random holes because it seemed fun at the time. It was even how he met Adelayde! But then digging lost its charm and he moved onto his next exciting but ultimately useless hobby. He had called it exploring, even when all he ever really did was pace around pack territory for hours at a time. It was better than doing nothing, though, so he never really stopped his newfound habit of pointless pacing. Everything was fine right until the point it wasn't. Because walking for hours on end? It was boring.
Cottongrass was pretty sure he could navigate pack territory with his eyes closed in his sleep. He didn't actually try it yet because he didn't want some random wolf thinking he actually lost his mind, but he was tempted to. It was a nice day, after all. The sun was warm against his back and the air wasn't too hot. And thus, Cottongrass walked. He dragged his feet and shuffled along the edges of pack territory, following the invisible line that he didn't dare cross for reasons unknown. It wasn't until he reached the forest that made up the south of Wild Rye Fields did he slow down. And without thinking about it he reached out to brush his side along the trunk of one of many trees, shedding pelt making his skin crawl.
Except Cottongrass was Cottongrass.
The tree was farther away than he thought it was and he found himself leaning into empty space. Gravity didn't hesitate to do the rest as he fell, flopping onto his side into the dirt while all the air in his chest left him in a startled wheeze. He didn't bother moving or standing back up. His fate was decided and he had no qualms with it.
He was the ground now.
And it was then it started to rain.