[open] The Alchemist speaks in a language without words [Any]

[Vadar]

Vadar

Seven characteristics are in an uncultivated person, and seven in a learned one

For his entire life it seemed that Beqanna had no place, no home, carved out for Vadar. He was born a bastard son to a clown king, nothing more than a burden laid on mother Wound’s already heavy shoulders. A product of rape in captivity who was eventually brought around to Tephra and then promptly driven out.

He was without a home; he detested the very idea of it.

That was before this moment though, before the sun roasted his patchy body and before the dark silhouette of the magician (he would find out later) loomed overhead to speak cryptically. Vadar breaths in the dust stirred loose by the other horses footsteps, feeling the water bubble and pool around his mouth. He drinks it ravenously, despite it being pure mud for a moment or two. A dying beggar can’t be choosy.

“Wh …” He coughs, wheezing in pain as he shifts from his side to his belly. Now he can see the imposing stature of the other male who’d intercepted him, and because of that Vadar feels the slime on his cheek, the sand in his fur, and the pink, bare skin over his legs as a sure sign of weakness. “Where am I?” He tries again, breathing heavily.

Info/Ref

@[Eight]