hard sun [joining]

Anatole Aston · 11-30-2011, 05:28 PM

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+3 Anyone can join, but I figured Tammi might want in with Claudius. COUSIN TIIIIME. Also, Anatole does not have a spirit guide and will be going for the scouting tier.

He had expected to feel something returning here; it was his birthplace, after all. Some mystical ideal that he was drawn to such a place fell short, however. Anatole viewed the lands indifferently, unromantically. Training had him observe only what signs were clear—something traumatic had shaken the woods, for the scents on the borders belonged to many, and not to one. His cousin’s scent clung as well, stronger than the others. This he found surprising. Anatole’s memory of Claudius was not a positive one.

There were other signs, here, that spoke of the wealth of the land. This he knew from experience. How long had it been, he wondered. Long enough that his feelings (if there ever had been any) were now shriveled and dried. This too, however, was not uncommon. Anatole was the sort of man who had little patience for things, and who did not look with wonder upon the world. He respected it well enough, especially after his mother’s accident, but there was no magic in it for him. Life was simple. The sun rose and set, the moon changed its face, and the seasons came and went.

Winter, he had realized, was at his heels. The massively plush pelt that encompassed him spoke of it, echoed by the bitter wind. It would not be half so cold here, though. He had traveled much further north and seen the truth wrath of winter—Nova Scotia was nothing compared to the tundra he had encountered. Still, he was here again. Even now, he doubted his return. Why come back? Why did it matter if they were alive? Noir had died, and his aunt had all but lost her mind, so why come back? Because she had asked him, and because regardless of his age or his size, he would always be her son.

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