50th of Ashan, 715
Dear Sir Kyric,
It is my regret to inform you of the passing of your uncle, Rayvar Kyric, on the 4th of Ashan, 715. Rayvar perished after the dousing of his combustion. As found in his last will and testament, his house, belongings, and all his savings have been bequeathed to you as his last blood kin. We urge you home to Sirothelle to claim his property. If you do not…
It was at this point in reading that the parchment in Avrae’s hand was crumpled in his fist, until it was a mere ball. The ginger haired Aukari angrily tossed it into the distance, watching it roll in the wet grass.It was Ashan, and the snow had begun to melt, leaving patches of the white substance that had only began to wash away from the recent rains. In fact, it had rained that very morning, and as Avrae sat outside Mal’s cave, he could see the angry gray clouds rolling overhead. His breath still came out in little foggy white clouds, and he could taste the rain in the air, despite the small break. Avrae hated being out in the rain, or near any water- such as the creek that was nearby. His amulet’s red eyes had been glowing the entire season he’d been staying here. Avrae had suspected he’d have to leave now that the worst of winter was over, but he didn’t know leaving would take him back to Sirothelle. His time as Mal’s guest had been overall pleasant, and Avrae found himself enjoying the time he spent with the strange yet kind young human male. He would not have stayed much longer, but he found himself sad to go.
Alluin was asleep still in the cave. It was around dawn, earlier than many would be up, but Avrae found it hard to sleep when he was troubled. The other day he’d made the journey to Ne’haer, only two days away from Mal’s cave. There, he’d found the letter waiting for him, that changed everything. He wasn’t sure how he felt, and that was a dangerous thing for an Aukari. Taking a few calming breaths, Avrae tried to still shaking hands, biting into his bottom lip as he looked across the beautiful scenery. He loved traveling, but the idea of going back to Sirothelle bothered him. Or was it the thought of leaving his newfound cave companion?
Dear Sir Kyric,
It is my regret to inform you of the passing of your uncle, Rayvar Kyric, on the 4th of Ashan, 715. Rayvar perished after the dousing of his combustion. As found in his last will and testament, his house, belongings, and all his savings have been bequeathed to you as his last blood kin. We urge you home to Sirothelle to claim his property. If you do not…
It was at this point in reading that the parchment in Avrae’s hand was crumpled in his fist, until it was a mere ball. The ginger haired Aukari angrily tossed it into the distance, watching it roll in the wet grass.It was Ashan, and the snow had begun to melt, leaving patches of the white substance that had only began to wash away from the recent rains. In fact, it had rained that very morning, and as Avrae sat outside Mal’s cave, he could see the angry gray clouds rolling overhead. His breath still came out in little foggy white clouds, and he could taste the rain in the air, despite the small break. Avrae hated being out in the rain, or near any water- such as the creek that was nearby. His amulet’s red eyes had been glowing the entire season he’d been staying here. Avrae had suspected he’d have to leave now that the worst of winter was over, but he didn’t know leaving would take him back to Sirothelle. His time as Mal’s guest had been overall pleasant, and Avrae found himself enjoying the time he spent with the strange yet kind young human male. He would not have stayed much longer, but he found himself sad to go.
Alluin was asleep still in the cave. It was around dawn, earlier than many would be up, but Avrae found it hard to sleep when he was troubled. The other day he’d made the journey to Ne’haer, only two days away from Mal’s cave. There, he’d found the letter waiting for him, that changed everything. He wasn’t sure how he felt, and that was a dangerous thing for an Aukari. Taking a few calming breaths, Avrae tried to still shaking hands, biting into his bottom lip as he looked across the beautiful scenery. He loved traveling, but the idea of going back to Sirothelle bothered him. Or was it the thought of leaving his newfound cave companion?