07-05-2019, 03:56 AM
Torryn
He had remained in Taiga ever since the strange encounter with the genie-mare; the one that had called him to the meadow at the base of the mountain, and compelled him to try and do things against his nature. There was a part of him that was not entirely sure if any of it had been real. When he had awoken the next morning, his legs had felt as though they were not connecting to his brain. His movements were awkward, his legs often becoming entangled with each other when he walked too fast. It had worried his mother, who then kept touching his neck and forehead, certain that he must be warm with fever. Even though he was freshly two years old, Briseis’ worry for her children was unshakable, and she fretted over him as if he was a newborn. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to be irritated with her. He knew that he was terribly lucky to have a mother (and a father) that cared about him, and so he let her preen and fuss over him until she was certain he was fine.
Eventually, whatever had befell him wore off.
That adventure, be it real or only a fever-dream, had ignited something inside of him. He couldn’t say that he had the same wanderlust as his mother, but something was drawing him outside of Taiga. He was beginning to see how much more there was to the world than just towering trees, and his father’s shadows, and maybe somewhere out here, he would find something to call his own. His family, all of them black, and most of them wielding some sort of shadow manipulation, had never done anything to make him feel as though he didn’t belong. Yet that didn’t change the fact that he felt completely separated from them. Where they were black as night, he was roaned – almost slate blue in appearance. Where they could open shadow portals, or teleport through the darkness, or any other variety of magic, he had been born like his mother; with nothing.
It wasn’t them that he felt like he had to prove anything to; it was to himself.
When he left Taiga today, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He just assumes he will know when he sees it. The riverlands were blanketed in a layer of snow, and the watery winter light reflected off the bright white of it. His darker body was a stark contrast against it as he walked, his skin pulled taut in an attempt to ward off the cold. Even though he had just turned two, his body had clearly outgrown the softness of childhood. His muscles had grown hard, with bulk beginning to match the growing length of his legs. He looked out at the world with quiet brown eyes, and though they had grown more somber as his childish excitement diminished, there was still a youthul spark glowing in the depths of them.
Something pale catches his eye, and the sound of a soft voice floating above the sounds of the river draws his attention. He sees her, and the first thing he notices is that she is alone. She appears to be only slightly younger than Wrenley, his little sister. Perhaps it was from growing up with an overprotective mother, but he knows Briseis would never have let any of them play in the current of the river at that age, unsupervised.
And so when he approaches, it is out of concern, but he disguises it with friendliness. “Hey,” he says once he is close enough, his black lips curving into a crooked, boyish smile as he watches her dance around in the snow in an attempt to warm her legs back up. “Bet you won’t make that mistake again, huh?” He doesn’t get too close to her, but he is close enough to catch her scent. She smells of the outside, of other lands, and while this confuses him, it also snags his attention. “I’m Torryn. Shouldn’t you be with your mom?”
Eventually, whatever had befell him wore off.
That adventure, be it real or only a fever-dream, had ignited something inside of him. He couldn’t say that he had the same wanderlust as his mother, but something was drawing him outside of Taiga. He was beginning to see how much more there was to the world than just towering trees, and his father’s shadows, and maybe somewhere out here, he would find something to call his own. His family, all of them black, and most of them wielding some sort of shadow manipulation, had never done anything to make him feel as though he didn’t belong. Yet that didn’t change the fact that he felt completely separated from them. Where they were black as night, he was roaned – almost slate blue in appearance. Where they could open shadow portals, or teleport through the darkness, or any other variety of magic, he had been born like his mother; with nothing.
It wasn’t them that he felt like he had to prove anything to; it was to himself.
When he left Taiga today, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He just assumes he will know when he sees it. The riverlands were blanketed in a layer of snow, and the watery winter light reflected off the bright white of it. His darker body was a stark contrast against it as he walked, his skin pulled taut in an attempt to ward off the cold. Even though he had just turned two, his body had clearly outgrown the softness of childhood. His muscles had grown hard, with bulk beginning to match the growing length of his legs. He looked out at the world with quiet brown eyes, and though they had grown more somber as his childish excitement diminished, there was still a youthul spark glowing in the depths of them.
Something pale catches his eye, and the sound of a soft voice floating above the sounds of the river draws his attention. He sees her, and the first thing he notices is that she is alone. She appears to be only slightly younger than Wrenley, his little sister. Perhaps it was from growing up with an overprotective mother, but he knows Briseis would never have let any of them play in the current of the river at that age, unsupervised.
And so when he approaches, it is out of concern, but he disguises it with friendliness. “Hey,” he says once he is close enough, his black lips curving into a crooked, boyish smile as he watches her dance around in the snow in an attempt to warm her legs back up. “Bet you won’t make that mistake again, huh?” He doesn’t get too close to her, but he is close enough to catch her scent. She smells of the outside, of other lands, and while this confuses him, it also snags his attention. “I’m Torryn. Shouldn’t you be with your mom?”
