western song

It had been a trying season, and much to his daughters chagrin he had once again traveled back to the west. Yes, she was the only family he had after the loss of his wife and son, but her constant worry for him was tiring. So it was to the avian estuary he went, a place of great song and beauty.

Here the silver man would sit, his amber gaze losing itself in the trees where families of birds nested. Even in the winter it seemed the birds refused to leave, seeing as the west was probably the warmest terra they could find in Alacritis. His mind would take him to the home of each bird, wondering how they could all stay so entranced in their own lives without having to worry about drama, war, and the troubles of the civilized life.

Flamesong imagined himself as a raven with wings that spread over all of the land. His eyes would look down and see all of his beloved; the ever fought for lands of Valhalla, his daughter and only family member Melody, Qanik...and it was on her face he would rest, wanting to know every thought that ran through her head.

Why was he so caught up in her? Had they not only met a few times before he had fled from the earthquake? Why had he handed his heart over to her so freely? Perhaps he was just lonely. Perhaps the idea of dying alone was just too much for the aging man.

The brute would sigh, allowing his bulky chest to fall onto the soft ground of the estuary, his paws spreading beneath him in a bout of exhaustion. Perhaps what he needed was just some time to himself to merely consider his options. And with this thought, his flaming opticals fluttered closed in a waking sleep.