Closed A New Sun Rises (Wymez)

[Hayden Youngblood]

Hayden Youngblood Winter 21st 517 AV The watchtowers had finally flared blue, but the cold seemed to be strangely reluctant to show itself. For Hayden, this meant months of gloom to come. In a hot winter, hunting was harder and other mundane tasks became difficult quests for survival. The grasslands were also put in danger by the strange weather and the wildlife was perishing. But, like all drykas, Hayden would never leave nor even consider leaving the grasslands. It was his home and it was beautiful. It had been five years since Hayden had been adopted into the Proudspear pavilion. He had accepted it as his home. His mother was there and that was where home was. These thoughts ran through his mind on the morning of the 21st day of winter. He had gotten out of his tent and been shocked by the blast of heat he felt as soon he stepped out. A warm breeze blew through his wavy hair, messing it up. He decided to only wear a pair of leather shorts and go shirtless. There was something on the back of his mind that he wanted to do, but surely he had other duties to complete. The hides of the red tents gathered in the camp slapped gently against one another in the breeze, making the camp seem less cozy than normal. He made his way towards his mother's tent to see if she had awoken yet. He lifted up the hides and saw her unmade straw mattress empty. This likely meant that she was either cooking or hunting. Hayden realized that he might have time to do something he had been wanting to do. The camp was mostly full with people, but it didn't seem like anyone needed his help at the time. His mind drifted to the mysterious man who slept outside the main tent. They called him Wymez, and Hayden had only ever exchanged a few words with him since his years of being a part of the pavilion. Wymez had a strange appearance, with one eye having a droop to the upper lid. He also had many scars that he never explained their origins. Or, at least not that Hayden had heard of. Where did the man come from? What were his secrets? Most other members of the pavilion Hayden knew at least somewhat well, but Wymez was the exception. Hayden was snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that he had been aimlessly walking in a circle around the camp. He berated himself for having slacked off and decided that the if no one needed his help, the least he could do was train. He decided to do some push ups on the ground to do his regular body building training. If only his leather working skills were as good as his body building ones. A toned physique didn't seem to do as much for the pavilion as a good skill with animal hides did. As he did push ups, his mind began to wonder again. He felt himself giving in to the temptation of anger again. He felt rage at the two husbands his widowed mother had had and the sadness they had brought her. He felt rage at the fact that his skill would never truly be appreciated by the pavilion. He felt rage at the goddess, Morwen, who had abandoned her duties to keep winter cold. After a few sets of push ups, Hayden managed to calm himself once more. He retired to his tent and sat down, placing his head in his hands. The next days would be hard. They always were.