timber- open

[deimos]

It was cold outside. A slight dusting of snow, already melting between his toes. His eyes drifting about at it, the tiny white speckles that remained on the coolest of leaf litter. Too little to make a snowman, too wet to make a snowball for a supposed throw. Too little, too soon. His ears flattened, his gaze lifting towards the clouded over sky, deep green eyes. His chest felt tight- what was wrong with him? He wasn't even that old. He felt terribly old, all the knowledge that was surrounding his brain, tightening like a vice about him.

He shook his head. Slowly, he dragged himself back to his mother's porch- after his outburst the other day and seeing Aurum sad, he made his way back to the family home- and settled back down. His paws crossed one another, watching the slight drizzle present itself instead of snow. He huffed gently, laying his head down. Where was his dad? Better yet, who was his dad, and why did he leave him there alone? His sisters never came out to play. His mother seemed to always be locked up.

His body tensed up a bit the more he thought. He stood up again, making his way into the rain and towards the center of activity now. His eyes were narrowed against the slight drizzle, and it seemed he was intent on some destination. Any passerby could see the unhappiness on his face, the twist of thought in his body and the strange lost feeling in his eyes. Piers had reached a point in which he could not find the escape of in his mind- too genius to be happy, too young to do anything about it.

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