OPEN RAEB'S LAMENT - Open/Oneshot

[Byriath]

THE WINTER SUNRISE, RED ON WHITE

ooc:: the only 'important' paragraphs for those who want to post are the last two -- everything above that is filler

Byriath raised a weary head from his fur-bed, blinking away a blissful dream. Light filtered from his nearby window, filling the room with ambient lighting. It all seemed so peaceful, and yet, so empty. Without them, the room felt cold. He felt cold. Yet, he hid it behind a blank gaze as he stood and stretched his mighty form - of dark grey fur and glowing purple swirls over his shoulders and hips, marred with scars from wars and fights passed. The corner mirror met his gaze.

His face was similar to his body - robust, powerful, intricate glowing purple lines and markings surrounded his eyes, fiendish ram horns curling from behind his ears, black at the base and purple at the tips, ribbed with the same purple glow. Alabaster tusks curled from behind great saber fangs, a show of great terror and yet, used for tilling earth. His eyes, ancient and foreboding with a myriad of purples, were blank and dull.

With a tiring groan, he moved out of the bedroom and down the hall to the living space - once full of life and younglings, and now, home to him and his son only. After their passing, the other children left to live on their own. His son, Theseus, stayed behind to help tend the gardens in the warm months and defend the home in the cold. The fireplace along the far side had gone cold, with no embers, and Byriath seemed to shudder. Rolling his muscled shoulders, he grabbed a few chunks of firewood and set it alight with a purple blaze, watching it turn to a warm orange once out of his control.

He stayed there for what seemed like hours, but only minutes truly, until he heard the door open. His eyes snapped over, a glimmer of hope in them, that quickly was drowned by grief and sorrow at the sight of his son. Them and Theseus looked so similar, from their eyes to their smiles. 

"Morning, father," His son murmured, gently nudging his father against the shoulder with a firm muzzle. Byriath responded with a soft grunt and an affectionate nudge. Theseus sat next to him by the fire, his forepaws stuck forward to warm them, "The snow is thawing. Soon, we'll be gardening again."

Byriath responded with a grunt and a nod, tucking his forepaws under his body. Soon, it would be time to garden, to sow the earth and provide for himself, Theseus, and other groups in trade. His ration box was already low, he'd have to hunt again, "Any travelers from the other groups?"

"No," Theseus shook his head, and Byriath watched his mane fall into his face. The boy, hardly even an adult, still had trouble keeping his mane kempt. "I guess everyone buckled down for the winter."

Byriath hummed softly, his gaze returning to the fire. He closed his eyes, awash in warmth, before he was reminded of the traps he set the night before. He stood from his seat and shook his fur. He started for the door, swinging Levityan over his shoulder. Levityan was a rather sturdy axe he used to cut wood and old traps, and he never left home without it. He gave Theseus a glance before he walked out the door, "I'm going to check on the traps -- watch the cabin."

With the silent agreement from his son, Byriath closed the rickety door behind him and stepped off the front porch, eyes staring out into the snowy forest. Just as his son had said, the snow was beginning to thaw - especially the snow that covered the garden patches. Very soon, his cabin would look greener than ever.

With a huff, he started along the trodden path, which winded around the outskirts of his 'territory' -- to him, it was more of a property of land. And most were smart enough to not intrude.

LIKE BLOOD UPON THE SNOW