| he has spent the winter in silence, waiting, but he doesn’t know for what. he has no real plan for himself here… he doesn’t have a friend in this world, his rodina, his family, is dead. he feels this spring brings his rebirth. smothering his hope had been a slow and painful process but he had managed it at last and he was ready to shake off the dust of his sorrow and move on, if he could. as the snow melts, the icy wind turning soft, he feels his heart begin shuddering back to life…. the searching, the waiting, the wishing, he could feel the desire for those things melting away like the frost on the grass. each morning it was less and less until finally dawn broke tenderly on a new earth…. he hadn’t ever wanted to give up but what he had been doing these past few years… that wasn’t life…. it was just existing. and he wanted more. and he hoped his rodina would forgive him, if they were watching down on him… he hoped they would be happy he had decided to move on. he moves quietly, contemplatively, along the shore, an imposing black figure against the horizon of waves and far distant isles. he deliberates his options eagerly, uncertain of the fresh new path laid bare by his desire to finally move away from the past. he has no strong desire to claim land for his own and deal with the responsibilities of that action. he needs to travel the isles, to see what suits him, to make friends, connections that he has long deprived himself of. but now that he faces that prospect it seems too daunting… he had always been the quiet one.. the sensible one. to reach out to strangers? it sounds so intrusive… though his sister had been groomed first and foremost to assume the leadership role in his rodina, he and his bratri had also enjoyed the privilege of being distinctly educated in the areas of etiquette, honor, and a number of other noble causes… it seemed so out of place here though, where he was distinct for a reason much different than his education. his towering stature and boldly convex facial profile set him farther apart than he felt his mannerisms ever could. not in a good way of course. just different. and for all he knew he would never meet another of the královská krev, the royal blood… he was alone here in more ways than one. he doesn’t let this thought distract him though, as he wanders, he doesn’t wish to fall into that pit of despair for the thousandth time. his noble blood meant nothing here…. for now, and it is enough, he enjoys the sound of the waves at least, his velvety black ears dancing between the glorious rush of water and the sound of birdsong as they pronounce their greeting to the spring. he finds a small joy this temporary distraction from his thoughts, breathing in the musk of salty air and feeling the comforting warmth of the sun gleaming down on his dark-as-night back. ironically with his declaration of moving on, he feels released from the incessant need to keep searching..keep moving… it was the strange gift of hopelessness.
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