Meadow

Something within him had become cracked. As broken as the eye that sits upon his face, forever weeping a sinister streak of red that dries and crumbles, ending at the cusp of his nostril. “You should take it back.” He is emboldened, stirring within and feeling his blood pump for the first time in a long time.

Beneath his white hair, there must be a flush as the blood suddenly surges, gushing from his heart to his extremities and warming his lips and his ears.

Even against the storm that beckons, splitting the sky and raining down upon them a mix of sleet and snow, he feels a sort of warmth in his flesh. For he had his now-brother and his companion, and together they would rise up and with great iron fists smite the pests that had taken up residence in their homes.

It had been a farce, a joke that had ripped the shore from Nicholas’ hands, and Anawar can see a steadfast carefulness in the two seeing eyes of the grullo. “Shall we not rip it from her hands then, like tearing a teat from a suckling babe?” It should be easy, for his numbers were growing. Soon, mercenaries, spurred on by the promise of a home that was not wrongfully controlled by a mewling woman, would be at his beck and call.

Already, his strength is becoming unsurmountable.

“I will be returning to the Cove shortly.” A curt answer, a reminder that he had his goals, and they were attainable. “It has passed so many hands- and a mere woman had abandoned it to a stranger.” They did not regard the wealth of the Cove. It’s advantageous shores and cliffs, sea foam that fed the coast and made the stones lush and green with great northern grasses. Edible, but harsh for even the most stalwart of creatures. “He is not one of us.”

Bitterly- with disgust. There is hatred in his voice, and a black aura that hangs around his body and screams his intentions to all those that spy on them.