She was pouting, none of her siblings were ever around anymore to play. It was annoying and frustrating and sad. She was old, had been alive many years by this point, but she'd never outgrown the want or need of having clutchmates. She thrived in groups, where she could live up to her name. Sneaking around, pulling pranks, finding out secrets, and never doing as her siblings would have done. Where they had moved on, spread out across the swamp, she had not.She huffed, perhaps she needed a pet. One of the fun ones like a sanddog or an otter. Something that would be more entertaining than boredom. (As if anything could be less interesting than being bored.) Someone that would be more rewarding than feeling left behind.
Rogue struck a hoof out and cracked the melting ice over the languid pond then rolled up on her side. She wasn't going to sit here, she wasn't going to mope. She was going to find something to do, someone to play with. With a firm nod, she rose and walked off. Surely there was someone out there who wanted to have fun.
Past Lives kicked a rock out of frustration or maybe a little boredom. Okay, perhaps a lot of boredom. Things were so much slower in winter, especially after the Winter Market. All the excitement and buzz that preceded the event was intoxicating. And the booths were exhilarating themselves. Now it was dull as the surrounding. Not wanting to look anymore of a loon than she had already, she looked around. She looked up at nearby clouds even to see if any of the passing puffs took on a neat likeness to something cute. Nothing. Finally, she spied some bright red berries on a nearby tree branch. Extending her neck, she pulled and succeeded in only drowning herself in powder fresh snow. She gave up.