"Suffer in Silence" Separated once and for all from his dearest family, lost to the wilderness where he joined the foliage in growing wild and untamed, it suited him well enough, same crap and different day, this golden monstrosity lumbering almost serenely beneath the glow of all this dirt and death, thick coat disheveled by all manner of debris as though he'd spent some time rolling in it. Bi colored eyes, swinish and filmy and set apart too widely in his skull, tilted upward as the atmosphere grew unexpectedly lighter to peer at the canopy, from which a single ray of sun broke through to hit the willows floor. The gaze he affixed the sky with now was enigmatic, devouring everything and spitting nothing readable back, the yearling a true rorschach test, see what you want to see, and perhaps a bleeding heart would envision he dreamed now of freedom from this hellhole, of somewhere golden and innocent beyond the hills. He dreamed of war. Longed for the raid, where he may go out to ravage the countryside, hoped covertly to himself that maybe...just maybe. If his brothers...his god damned perfect brothers would screw up and he'd get to hurt them, but more than anything, he felt the sun's warmth on his broad back now and thought beyond that, imagination whisking him to the violence The Silver King prattled endlessly on about but never served to him. The little taste said raid and poor mutilated Mother provided only wet his thirst for it more, and so he fantasized an army worthy not of gentlemanly reverence, but a horde of sacrificial lambs, pretty little civilians, rams and ewes all promising fun, all waiting for him just outside these borderlines. I love it. I love it more than my life. More than anything. Somewhere in the void where mind existed amongst brain and blood and bone, another muse would collide with the prior. She loves it, too. She. Her. The golden raider. The pretty girl. What was her name? Why was she in his thoughts at all? Usually it was only him in these dreams, towering closer to trapped and surrendering families, face a grotesque mask of sadism and oversized fangs, smelling their terror, tasting it, everyone else a hazy blur, but lately she'd been intruding upon them, always there and distinct, a bounty to be saved, or sometimes waging the wars with him... They'd a special connection, he'd decided, cemented the instant they'd pull apart one of their own together, tugging on opposite ends like some deranged connection. Roaming without aim, the beast began unconsciously to focus for this soft velvety female scent he remembered, all he had of her beyond the dreams and the gory memories. What would he do once he found her? What would he say? Would it have been better to continue coveting her anonymously? These were not questions the nobody asked himself now, nor were they necessity to carry out this search. Let me find you, my guardian. I miss your pretty, blood-soaked face...i miss it so much...mother.

After encountering her brother and the other girl in the North Sunniva decided to take a trip to the Western part of Boreas. The woman had, several times now, thought about going back to the abandoned vessel in the North. Where the air was colder and the wind was blocked out by the strange walls of the thing. It had almost felt like a home to her. Almost. Perhaps she was becoming soft? Wanting to settle down somewhere? Sunniva snorted at the thought. The last thing she wanted was to become weak. She had always been able to handle herself up until now... And she would be damned if she’d let that change. She was going to have to pick up on things, get a bit more active with these “lovely” Boreian folks and their ways. Maybe if she found something useful she could potentially trade it...? There was a thought. Of course there were other options too. She could feel a sense of eagerness fill her, eyes dancing with a certain light. She could always find herself some sparring partners. Two birds, one stone. They didn’t even necessarily need to be willing... She just had to be careful enough to not bite off more than she could chew. The female would spy him then; a man marked with such colors that she was mesmerized for a moment. He was handsome yes, but there seemed to be something else about him beneath the surface that Sunniva couldn’t put her finger on. His expression, for he was walking towards {though off a ways to the right}, seemed to speak of being within his own thoughts. “Hey, you!” She didn’t know his name, nor a better way to get his attention just yet. She wasn’t stupid enough to try and close the distance herself either; just in case this man proved to be hostile. “Mild winter, isn’t it?” How would he answer? "Listen to me talk," 'but read my thoughts.'

Art by:: Tealah