Yros

he is already tired of hearing oracles speak of doom in the stars, in the wind, in the earth. it’s a sticky malaise that lingers through the too crowded halls of the court. even among his own people. he could understand it in a way, their entire lives had been uprooted for a similar omen from the stars. he should be more understanding of their fear, but it only made him tired and irritable.

call him irresponsible, but he’d made a quick exit as soon as he could after the screaming and the reek of fear had begun. it took him half a day to get to the hollow, where the cold winds howled and tore at his cheeks, his eyes.

the sun was beginning to set as the cold gathered close, turning his breath to smoke. pyr could almost hear his father’s disappointment in the wind. no leader, no accidental heir, was supposed to act like a lawless wildling. after all, that behavior was supposed to have been beaten out of him before he became of age. pyr grit his teeth, shaking his head to drown out his father’s voice. no time for brooding. no time for lingering in those ugly thoughts at the back of his mind. he’d only wanted a little bit of peace, a little bit of time away from the courts.

(done.)

As for his own business, it's hardly as interesting as a royal shirking his duties. Sunset draws long shadows over the hollow as Saxifrage makes his way, pressing his ears against his skull when the sharp wind rips through his fur.

He's not entirely sure what he's doing here, actually.

Not that he owes anyone an explanation - you have no one to answer to - but he still clings to the habit in the back of his mind. It's easy to get lost in thought during these aimless travels, so he tries to concoct a reason good enough to bring him to such a place.

"Learning the land" is as good a reason as any. Exploration. Maybe materials to craft with. A focus outside of what he's left behind, and the more pressing matter of the chaos in the sky that has spilled down onto the citizens of Yros.

At least he hasn't been around the courts enough to truly experience the panic it wrought.

Maybe he chose the best possible time to take leave.

Nonetheless, he isn't as alone as he expects. A stranger swathed in gold is up ahead, and the youngster halts mid-step to observe, hoping he is far enough away to measure his options.