anyone;

[Fletchor]

life's like an hourglass glued to the table

Life dealt him an odd set of cards. He had been given life, sure, but there had been a cost. Mother in the end lost hers while Fletchor gained his. By no means had it been intentional. The world was whirring around him and jostled him here and there it seemed. Everything went from warm and dark to bright and cold. It didn't seem right and so he retaliated without understanding how. Sand lifted and danced around them but while Fletchor remained sound and untouched, Myrina met her demise.

Right from the womb, Fletchor committed murder.

It has been a few years since then. No one has been around to remind him of his first minutes alive. At times the memory of it escapes him but there are those more dismal days where the dark images return to him like a movie. When that happens the images are fresh like he's experiencing it all over again. It wakes him with a jolt. Sand falls to the ground around him and the storm immediately dies away. During those nights Fletchor is somehow creating sandstorms in his sleep.

The boy is dangerous although he doesn't realize this. There are days when he is at ease, calm, accepting of his life; there are others, however, that he isn't quite himself. Something is just... different.

Having left the jungle behind him months ago Fletchor arrives here. The meadow is new to him. The Amazons are all he knew, all he has ever seen and smelled. Everything is different here including the change in scenery. There is no canopy dotting out the sunlight or dense undergrowth winding along the soil hoping to trip its next victim. No, the meadow seems less feral and more peaceful.

With a shake of his body - which sends grains of sand flying in every direction - he settles in a sunlit area with his eyes steadily focused on the new world surrounding him.

FLETCHOR

Lokii x Myrina

[Image: callwolf_zpsasro4cel.png]