KORBIN
Raven wings spread wide as the youth flew up to perch in the hand of the goddess. It was not the kind of invite you declined, and Korbin found it soothing to gaze upon her. "True," he acknowledged, and adjusted the wings. He had asked for help for himself; not others.
"I am selfish, and I don't like change," he began. Laconic and to the point; the raven was not over fond of what he saw when gazing into himself. "When things happen that are beyond my control to change, I grow frustrated. Fear... it all begins and ends with fear. I feared losing the things that mattered so much that I held them too tight. In the end, it didn't even matter; they broke anyway."
The grief was a festering wound in his soul. Family taken one by one, until only he remained. Traditions and habits corrupted and forever altered, until he lost not only his place but himself, too. Who was to blame for this? The dragon who killed his sister? The ursur that claimed his brother? The illness that saw his father waste away, or the mother who walked out and never returned?
Himself? But blame was a barren thing, and the ashes held no comfort. The only thing that had ever quieted his restlessness was "Music. And the Tundra... being alone in the wilderness makes my problems seem petty, and small. Under the vast sky, breathing comes easier."
"I am selfish, and I don't like change," he began. Laconic and to the point; the raven was not over fond of what he saw when gazing into himself. "When things happen that are beyond my control to change, I grow frustrated. Fear... it all begins and ends with fear. I feared losing the things that mattered so much that I held them too tight. In the end, it didn't even matter; they broke anyway."
The grief was a festering wound in his soul. Family taken one by one, until only he remained. Traditions and habits corrupted and forever altered, until he lost not only his place but himself, too. Who was to blame for this? The dragon who killed his sister? The ursur that claimed his brother? The illness that saw his father waste away, or the mother who walked out and never returned?
Himself? But blame was a barren thing, and the ashes held no comfort. The only thing that had ever quieted his restlessness was "Music. And the Tundra... being alone in the wilderness makes my problems seem petty, and small. Under the vast sky, breathing comes easier."
Young and alone on a long road,
Once I lost my way
Once I lost my way
