Or the closest thing he could call good.
Whatever that meant.
He wasn’t well equipped to navigate a land encapsulated by a sunless sky, and many a time found himself stumbling into thorns and brambles and all manners of unpleasantness he might’ve been able to avoid if he could actually see. A prevailing thought crosses his mind in such instances, that perhaps leaving Beqanna in favor of a place more desirable might be a balm to his ceaseless dour attitude. Preferably a place that had those small conveniences like the light.
What a privileged life he had lived before.
Pushing off from the lodgepole pine that he’d been leaning against, his crimson eyes looked towards the River, wondering what his mother was up to. If it hadn’t been for her, he would have had no qualms with up and leaving in search of greener, well-lit pastures. Maybe she’d go with him? Nah, he thinks, disposing the idea as quickly as it had come. There were too many ties that she had here, too many unanswered questions that he knew better than to poke at.
And the look on her face if he’d go and tell her that he was leaving? Ugh.
“Forget it,” he grumbled, loudly enough for someone to hear nearby, even though he thought himself alone. “Not worth it.”
ratty rattattle here's a post if you're up for it ! and someone else too if anyone wants!