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The sun hadn’t gone down and it wouldn’t for awhile, since it was only a few hours past noon. The darkness was quick to swallow up the days this time of year, and the lack of sunlight didn’t seem to help with Silas’ current state. In fact, the early onset of dusk easily influenced and accentuated the weight in his chest. There just wasn’t as much to bring him joy now. The boy’s icy eyes only seemed to light up and have any sort of vibrancy when he was around Halo. Other than that, they were ghastly cold.
He lingered just outside of the mansion, poking at some flames he had set only an hour or so ago. There wasn’t much on his mind, at the moment. Silas had somehow reached a state where he felt almost completely numb. Pale eyes stared down at the flickering orange and that as the only thing to consume him. The young Vigilies had barely noticed the area around him – members of the clan could have easily come and gone from D’Neville without him noticing. It didn’t really matter anyways, did it? If it wasn’t Halo or his family that was approaching, nothing really mattered.
With a disgruntled sigh, Silas tossed the stick he was holding into the flame. Black razored hair fell to obscure his eyes, and the boy rested his chin in a palm, eyes focused (and yet unseeing) on the crackling fire.
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