No Crosses Count
The years of watching the lives play out below him… Sons and daughters experiencing all the crushing joy and devastation life had to offer. Old lovers seeking solace in the warm embrace of an other. He had grown bored with the staleness of the afterlife. He grew restless to rejoin the living. And he had with their great escape but he paid the ultimate price. He could have returned with old vigor in this youthful carcass that had been provided. He had the power (despite having no powers at all) to intercede and change the paths of fate that were befalling his kin and loved ones.
But he doesn’t remember them. Or this place. Everything he knew was lost in the endless dark gates of the Hell he had escaped. All he had was his name and Nocturnal. Perhaps that was all he needed.
Tephra was alright but he’s not fond of the constant stifling heat. So he slips from the molten land to sate his curiosities elsewhere. The Meadow is packed and his crimson gaze searches the faces as if to find a familiar face although he knows there won’t be one. Not one he could recall anyways that he hadn’t met within the last year. Raven tendrils curl lightly along the curve of his jaw as he tosses his skull, snorting with irritation. It was always the same old things in a different day. The same mindless chatter, the same tentative questions until the conversation died and they moved on to brighter pastures.
He is restless, tired of the monotonous routine. Wishing that despite the pretty faces (which he appreciates for what they are) he could find something to occupy his time. Something that wasn’t so…. Boring. His russet body brushes against a large boulder and he presses his hip to it, scratching at a hard reaching itch absentmindedly. Sighing as curved ears swivel forward, hoping to catch something of interest.
Girl, I've got that silver tongue, Drives you into delirium
Hope you don't mind, Cross is bored and needs things to do <3