Sorry for the wait! Set in the Dampwoods.
Pripyat felt that they were still falling apart. Piece by piece. Tiny parts of them had torn away and Pripyat Soul wasn't sure that they could fit those parts back in their original places. The longer the three of them walked around with parts missing, the harder it would be to ever put them back together. Although it was weeks after the snowstorm had ripped through their lands, the wounds, physical or otherwise, were still evident on all of them. Jefferson's body and Pripyat's guilt, and the stress that they both caused Geneva. Slowly Phoenix Valley was rebuilding. Slowly they were trying to rise back up. But Pripyat couldn't rise with them. Pripyat had not been able respond to the request that Jefferson had made for all the pack members to work together, to help each other, to heal each other. When he saw them he did not see rebirth, but only the aftermath of destruction. When he looked upon his father he did not see the same steady stable man who had always been there. He saw now only parts of him, and trying to assemble those parts and make Jefferson whole was impossible. That was his fault, he knew that.
He slunk through the pack lands with a heavy heart and avoided everyone he could. Although Jefferson had restricted anyone from border patrol on their own, Pripyat wandered solo. Up and down the borders until he grew weary and then he would slink out of Phoenix Valley. Only then did he find relief. Away from knowing eyes, sympathetic looks, or glares when he turned away from them and refused to speak. Away and far out of his mother's and father's sight, a gaze that stung whenever they set their eyes upon their son. The lanky silver youth didn't care where he went, he went wandering almost every day since the pack meeting. Where he wound up didn't matter, so long as it wasn’t home for a little while. It was deep into the Dampwoods he ended up then but he barely noticed. He did not notice much anymore. The time of day which was then midday or the weather which had steadily been improving. He simply moved along and when he got tired, sunk to the earth and laid there like a dead man, because Pripyat was sure he had been meant to be one anyway.
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