The Falls had been his home since he could remember. His mother's face, pale and hardened, was a memory long lost to him. Truthfully he cannot remember how he survived and could not place the face of the kind mares who let him nurse when he was young. He had grown quite a bit since he was last sleeping in a tree, though Kratos had refused to budge from that spot for some time. With each passing month he had dug the trench between the roots out more and more until there was no feasible way he could fit. Since his time there, a family of foxes had made their home in the makeshift den and he was happy that something had come of it, at least.
He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he could not live here forever. He did not even know his parents names, but he did know that from somewhere he had inherited the need to do something with his life. The Lagoon was not for him, no matter how many times he had considered it, even with the recent change in leadership. They were brothers, sure, but Kratos didn't want that for himself. He wanted a purpose for more than that.
With a sigh he pulled himself up from beside the tree he had once called his home, shooting a sad glance back at the young foxes peeking from the den. He would miss their company and watching the kits frolic through the grass in the early mornings. Everything did not last forever, even relative peace.
With ambling foot falls, Kratos headed toward the coast, unsure of where such an adventure would take him, but was hopeful he might get some spark of inspiration on the way. His muscles rippled beneath his coat of fire and ice with each step, leaving the grass shifting beneath his weight. He did not get far before he stopped and stared across the expanse of the falls, the scent of salt distant but not entirely foreign, but the falls crashing behind him.