son of the morning star

Autumn came, bringing with it a chill that made Dom feel even more alive and invigorated than usual. It's really lovely-- he swears it. No, listen. Listen. The mornings, especially the ones that were still cold, are so good. Getting up bright and early, the first breath of morning air in his lungs. The early bird catches the worm, or whatever. Dom would be the earliest bird, thank you very much.

At least he would today. It wasn't too early to be up yet, but probably too early for the sane to be moving. An early riser, but Dominus figured he'd be better off playing quietly outdoors in the grey morning than risking waking his sisters up. Not too early, but definitely chilly, the dew still sticking to the grass. Dom blinked into the sun, tilting his chin to it, warming his face in the morning light. Stretching his legs, romping, chasing his shadow through the tall, brown grasses.

A good morning, by any stretch.