Being cooped up inside all day was boring. Hardly that stunning of a revelation to anybody who had actually been injured for any long period of time before, but still something that was annoying Michael down to his very core. He just wanted to go and move, and he had been, to some extent, but he couldn't do it too much, or he was going to collapse in on himself and end up in a heap on the ground, whining through the pain. For the most part, because of this, he was condemned to remaining within the household of Roxie and Roan – and occasionally Greed – and just... waiting. To get better. It was almost like his own personal hell, and the thief often found himself just wanting to pace in circles because of it, just to let all the excess energy out. He had even attempted to do so at one point, only to stumble and have his weak, injured legs give way beneath him. Roxie had snickered at him for that, a fact that had made him glare scathingly at her. However, now he didn't even have the pleasant company of Roxie to keep himself entertained. Well, "pleasant" being a relative term. He loved Roxie like a sister, but also like a sister, the other wasn't afraid to give him hell. She had especially let him have it after the whole dire wolf incident had first gone down, ranting and raving about how he was an idiot and could've gotten himself killed. All technically true, but he still didn't regret his decision. He and Roxie were even closer because of it, and it felt... nice. Having something like family.

However, Roxie wasn't around all the time, which meant that he didn't always have the company that misery was so desperately fond of. He had tried a couple of times to rope her into staying by pointing out that she wasn't supposed to be exacerbating her injuries, but she was always swift to shoot back that he had been going out to greet joiners. Which was... well, fair enough. This however, did not change the fact that being home alone with nothing to do sucked, so Michael had decided to find something to do. In the ene, he had ultimately decided that he was going to bake a cake. He was hardly a Baker – in fact he'd never actually made a baked good before in his life – but a cake seemed a nice enough way to thank Roxie and everybody else for letting him in, so he had decided that was what he was going to do, experience or not. This, needless to say, was a horrible idea. It wasn't so bad at first, mind you. He had managed to find a book with instructions on how to cook a cake, and he was actually following them fairly closely, making use of the kitchen that Roxie had within her new, bigger house. Everything was looking fairly good, for the most part. Well, the cake wasn't the prettiest thing in the world, – it sort've looked like dirt, actually – but he was sure it would taste good, once it was done properly cooking. So, with his instructions in hand, Michael had put the cake in to bake, moving off to just rest and wait until it hit the time where he was supposed to take it out, and he could share with everyone.

Unfortunately, Michael had a very nasty habit that had plagued him ever since he had been a kit, wandering through the loner lands without anybody to guide him. That particular habit was a tendency to get stuck inside his own head. Whether it just be becoming too wrapped up in his own thoughts, daydreaming about the future or something magnificent he wanted, or just getting stuck on some messed up internal conflict, Michael was constantly drifting off into his own little world, head in the clouds to some extent. He hadn't meant to do that this time, but he very rarely ever meant to drift off, really. He wasn't sure what exactly had set it off, but it could've been anything, really. He could've been thinking about the dire wolf attack, or his new family in Roxie, or Trevor, but it really didn't matter in the end, because ultimately he ended up snapped out of it by the thick smell of smoke filled his nose. He immediately recoiled at the scent, coughing and stumbling to his paws as he headed straight for the kitchen, his blue eyes narrowed. At the very least it hadn't been burning for very long, so the house wasn't up I'm flames or completely filled with smoke. Either way, the next few minutes were a sort of blur, with Michael frantically tugging out a cake that now looked less like dirt, and more like pure black charcoal. He immediately winced at the sight of it, a heavy sigh leaving him as he dragged the pan out the front door and out into the sand. Little puffs of smoke immediately floundered upwards as the door was swung open, and Michael began to tear little bits of the burnt cake apart, tossing them out into the sand for the birds. He grumbled as he did so, shaking his head a little bit, "I don't really think that I was designed for this baking shit..."

Showing up on their beach with a portal maker strapped to his back, loitering around, leaving for a few days to the most hated clan on the island, dropping off his lover and then returning probably didn't make his reputation look the best. But! He was here now, until Caustic came calling for him and Octane ran back to Tanglewood in a heart beat. Octavio was quickly met with the same problem as before- boredom.

He could understand hatred for being cooped up, locked inside somewhere. Octane was known for pushing too hard and getting his entire squad killed, known for running too far ahead and out in the open. And normally, that's how he was filling his time here, running around the territory. His shoulder still caused too much pain though, so Octane was stuck around camp and it drove him nuts.
Smoke, the smell of it, was notification that something at least halfway entertaining was happening. The cheetah was drawn like a shark to blood, coming out of the hut he picked and trampling down the shore, metal legs kicking up sand as he ran towards them, skitting to a halt and quickly taking in the situation. "Ey, compadre, trying to start a fire or something?"

Michael hadn't exactly been hoping for people to start gathering around to take part in gawking at his failure, but he supposed that he couldn't have really expected no one to notice anything. Even though nothing was seriously harmed, the scent of the burnt cake was overwhelming and sharp, and it wouldn't take much for the tang of smoke to draw people over, as demonstrated by the appearance of Roxie, Ska'arq, and Octane. Immediately the dark bobcat winced at the sound of Roxanne's slightly frantic voice, all things considered calmer than he had actually expected her to be. He gave her a bit of a halfhearted toothy smile in response, trying to reassure without words before he thought of how to give a proper explanation. However, Ska'arq stepped in without him even needing to say anything, essentially explaining the situation without any of the little hangups Michael probably would've gotten stuck on. Michael shot the unfamiliar dragon a little grateful look before he sighed, shaking his head, "He's right. Well... about the failed attempt at makin' food part, anyways. It's actually burnt cake, not bread. Although... I guess they kinda both look the same when they're charred to fucking bits." He glared down at one of the little pieces before he flicked it off to the side, watching as a bird swiped it up swiftly.

The male jumped slightly when Octane came skidding over in a hurry, evidently very excited to see whatever the source of the smoke was. Michael wasn't even a little sorry to disappoint, since he was fairly sure Octane might've been hoping for something really thrilling like a giant house fire, given the look on his face. Scowling a bit at the other's words, Michael let out a snort, shaking his head, "No, I'm not trying to start a fuckin' fire. What I was trying to do was bake a cake for people as a thanks for lettin' me stay here. However I somehow managed to fuck that up." He said that particular fuck with a bit more oomph, giving another aggressive flick of his paw to send on of the last crumbs of cake flying. Turning his gaze back to Roxie, Michael explained quickly, "And don't worry, there was no fire or anything. Nothing was hurt, there's now just me... and the horrible little remains of this poor cake."