Spring is rapidly tumbling into summer, the third summer of his life, with his second birthday having come and gone at the start of spring. The days grow long and hot again and he recalls being a yearling strutting in the meadow, playing at Kings and Generals under an oak tree with Sabbath. Last summer spent harassing his younger siblings, thinking of when he would get free of his mother’s nest and throw himself into being a bachelor who trampled the world beneath his feet.
How strange what a year could change, his mother’s love of Hyaline must be written into his genes.
Still, he is young, even if he doesn’t look so much like a child anymore. Tall, rippling with muscle but not yet filled out fully. Though he is meant to be going to the field for the first time, in the hopes of beating his mother to her recruiting, he is instead back in the meadow, back under the tree. Its shadow is long in the morning and strains toward the river but it is being dragged back by the slow climb of sun into sky. The grass is taller this year even with his greater height and he wades through it toward the trunk of the oak but stops midway there, his way blocked by a wall of purple asters that extends in a crooked half moon shape in either direction. Valek does not remember these and turns to walk along the edge of them slowly, until, at their center he wades in amongst them and drops to roll in them sending petals everywhere.
A bit of destruction, just like his dam, he can't resist it.
[Aislyn] Here is some weird pointless trash
