The skeleton boy had only known stasis all his young life – living as if he were but a moment frozen in time.

He didn’t know who had birthed him; he hadn’t been raised by anybody. No kingdom or territory had claimed his fealty, no family history or legacy (he knew nothing of Tarnished or the chaos and terror that had followed after his infamous sire) had been passed down to him. His trust could only be placed in his self and in the knowledge and hard-won lessons of the wilds that had raised him.

Torrid ventured to the meadow often. He had found that although he did not have much interest in socializing with the many individuals who came to do so, he could observe and mimic those of interest instead. It was how he learned where the best places to find shade from the overbearing sun during the hot summers or how he learned to find food during the scarce winter months when the grasses might be buried beneath several feet of snow.

Although one could describe his life as lonely, it was certainly quite unremarkable. He felt no great bitterness or anger towards unknown parental faces. He’s never experienced deep sorrow or regrets, nor great joy, nor even that first spark of love. He was inexperienced and young – merely surviving one day at a time. The skeleton boy didn’t consider himself to be emotionless, but found that he had trouble expressing himself outwardly or perhaps not feeling as greatly as others when they are put in the same situations. He even lacked dreams and ambitions. He was just like the falling autumn leaves, drifting aimlessly downwards onto the hard ground just to lay piled beneath others and waste away into nothing.

He was a ghost, drifting through this world armed with only a name and a will.

Torrid didn’t know how long he had been watching the leaves drop down from the overhead branches, but clearly, he had done enough introspection for the day and it was time to move on. He shook his head in slight consternation before a crackling of leaves behind him distracted him even more from his previous wandering thoughts. He stood silent and still, making eye contact with the black stallion that strode along the outer portion of the meadow and advanced towards the skeleton boy’s current location.