Fundy was depressed. That was the only way to say it. He was sad, and board, and lonely, and angry at his dad, and angry at the world, and touch starved, and felt like he had no time to just be a kid. Not to mention the fact he had no friends, because there was nobody his age.

his dad was gone, who knows where, Wilbur never told Fundy where he was going.

Fundy sat on a log near a small creak that ran a little ways away from their house. There was a massive hay field all around the area, Fundy had gotten lost in it before, so he usually stays out of the hay. But there was a dirt path that went through the hay tothe small forested area in the middle where the stream ran, so he decided to come out there, just to get out of the house.

a cold breeze ruffled the autumn maple leaves overhead, a frost had come last night, but the wet ground was already carpeted with more leaves. The miles of hay stretched on. To one direction was the grater smp and some forest. To another was the ocean, about 2 hours away, and in another was just more tall grass, and some larger clumps of forest, and maybe a house or 2 like Fundys, away from the rest of the smp.