Tiresome Travels

It was beautiful, in these cold, frigid lands. Despite the constant chill he felt, he could not deny the allure of the North. He barely even felt this cold, now, as he walked delicately on thick ice, weaving in and out of trees. The trees... they were submerged, in a lake that was now frozen. The tops of the trees poked through, and it was an utterly bizarre sight; he never expected to see such a thing. It was oddly refreshing, after he fled his father's lands.

The boy flinched at the thought. Despite this season being his birth season, and him turning three years of age, he felt like a little pup. He was worthless. He disappointed his family, irreparably, and that was the only reason he was there. Worthless, broken, Starling. That's all he was.

As if sensing the darkening of his mood, Stella swooped and landed on his head, chirping softly and wordlessly. He shook his head roughly, knocking her off. "Go away," he muttered, anger and self-loathing in his voice. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want anyone's pity. He just wanted to see his one friend who he hadn't disappointed, and the one person he felt happy around.

Taking a deep breath, Starling threw back his head and called out lightly for Cathaoir, hoping the male was around. If he wasn't, Starling wasn't certain what he'd do.

"Burn Baby Burn" || "Bruciare Bambino Bruciare"