He is clueless of what lies ahead. His mother and her macerated heart and all the change she will inflict on his life are entirely unknown. It would serve him well to know more of her trials of the heart but he is a beautiful boy who must set the world on fire for himself.
Along the river runs a well traveled highway that never deviates far from the edge of the water. Frequently that path, dusty or carpeted by hardy low growing grass, veers off into the trees or into the river itself. These little offshoots criss-cross the main route and disappear into the forest or off toward toward the meadow. Some are narrow secret tracks. Others are well-used and framed by foliage that has grown accustomed to frequent passers-by, dark green tunnels off curling off into the trees.
It is by means of these that the bay is spending a day in idle exploration. He is splashed in bright color as though he had raced through molten gold. Even his handsome face is unevenly painted with a careless ease that lends him an all the more rakish appearance. The curve in the river creates a deep black hole beneath the surface. It is dark and likely cool, a pleasant place for large trout to rest. He is drawn to it inexplicably, wading along the slope around its edge. He does not know what lies in that darkness though at some point all of him has been soaked and water drips from his black forelock and clings to his dark lashes. Eyes the color of hazelnut shells veined in gold are trained upon the ribbony outline of a fish tucked up beneath the bank. Valek has no use for a fish, but he watches it all the same until the sound of someone else coming along toward the curve in the river and the dark hole draws his attention.
Valek turns away from the deep part of the river and into the faster shallow water. He does not shake himself but lets the water drip from him the autumn air chilling his skin as he looks toward a stranger and says with amiable intensity, “Have you ever caught a river trout?”
@[jenger] here is a bunch of weird ramblings
