Diego pointed himself north. He walked blindly, refusing to look at the white landscape. Its barrenness simply emphasized that he was completely alone. He resented Manny for what he had done, but also understood. Sometimes parents did strange things for their children. Not that he would know, he reflected. Diero had been distant at best. Barely a father, Diero had better fit the role of taskmaster or disciplinarian, and had been more concerned about the survival of the pack as a whole than connecting with his children.
Pridefully Diego decided that he had grown up alone. That he had been neglected for his pack. That he had raised himself, but deep down he knew it was a lie. There had been others in the pack that raised him. His mother was his initial caretaker, but after her death the pack had spiraled out of control. Mindis' death had directly caused Diero's downfall and the beginnings of insanity. Transitively, her death had allowed for the rise of Soto.
Soto had been a better father than Diero despite their closeness in age. Sort of. Maybe for Diego he was more of a much older brother, than a father offering guidance and protection. But undoubtedly he had tried his best to nurture them, especially Shetar.
Diego hadn't seen his twin sister since she fled the pack, trying to escape the cold leader that Soto had become. Had it been two years? Or three? Briefly he wondered if she was still alive, if she had found the fresh blood she had been looking for. He knew she hadn't been able to settle with Soto, he had killed him indirectly. He had fought against his pack, against his brother by trials. He did all that for a herd that no longer cared for him.
Diego didn't understand why he regretted killing Soto. He didn't regret killing the countless herbivores he considered prey. He didn't regret Zeke's death that Sid had reported to him. He only regretted Soto's death. If he had been thinking rationally, he may have noticed that he was being reactionary. That his rage at Manny was manifesting itself as regrets. But Diego also knew deep down that Soto had deserved to live. That as much as becoming a leader had hardened him; Diego owed him for his care, for his guidance, and for his protection.
"It's over!" He shouted, and echoes rolled back over the snow, magnified against the glacier. "I'm going back." And with his destination in mind, Diego began the trek back towards Half Peak, with the goal of discovering what had happened to the remnants of his pack.