Grasping the reins of the WIND was not the easiest of tasks--he experimented, he FAILED, he SUCCEEDED and thus forth achieved a sense of semi-balance. His skills were getting gradually better, more tamed and less erratic and dangerous. They corresponded too harshly with his emotions as if they were tied together from the core. He sometimes paused between his travels to simply stare at the tool within his hands; analyzing it to the best of his sullen ability. Trying to understand the message, the GIFT of the moon and one of the worst silent treatments he could never begin to understand.
There was a highlight eventually--the Shepherd's Crook he discovered later on helped him focus, maintain a sense of normalcy or one he could describe as normal. However, mistakes, flukes, and mishaps appeared inevitably and this time it was rather big and conspicuous to ANYONE'S eye. Trees TOPPLED over from the mere force of unwarranted snow and wind. A loud echoing of wild birds screeched at the intrusion, ground inhabitants scurry in ALL directions to get away with their lives intact. This was NOT a part of the plan as teeth painstakingly clenched into an apologetic wince.
