Clan Leaders are people too|Naurorod
Oct 15, 2006 22:13:17 GMT -5
Post by lattsyrck on Oct 15, 2006 22:13:17 GMT -5
This day was one that needed air. It was overcast and cool, signs of winter blowing down. The clan was at work preparing and making preserves, hunting and trapping, cleaning and mending. For a clan leader, these were not things he did a lot anymore.
Walking out to the east of town, past the temple and into the forest, Zethar sought refuge and escape. His dark hair was loose and curly blowing along his shoulders as he walked. He was not in a pony-tail mood today.
Wearing black breeches and gray wool under socks (breeches ended just under his knee and socks came up over his knee but under the breeches) Zethar marched alond leisurely. His black boots crunched on the undergrowth. On top he wore a white tunic and black wool vest with a black leather belt around his waist carrying his sword. Around his neck was a silver pendent worked into the Fire symbol hanging on a silver chain.
He may be 27 years old, but he was still youthful at heart. His wife and the baby had died in child birth when he was 21 and he had not met anyone else since. Then when his father died a year ago and he had to take over the clan Zethar became very preoccupied. All in all, he was starting to feel lonely and hopeless even as he hated the thoughts in himself.
As he stomped along through the growth Zethar began to wonder what he was going to do with his life now. The war was over and he was the Clan Leader. Dragons were afoot now, but that was not a direct problem just yet. He wondered again if he was cut out to be the leader of this Clan or if he would ruin the town.
Walking out to the east of town, past the temple and into the forest, Zethar sought refuge and escape. His dark hair was loose and curly blowing along his shoulders as he walked. He was not in a pony-tail mood today.
Wearing black breeches and gray wool under socks (breeches ended just under his knee and socks came up over his knee but under the breeches) Zethar marched alond leisurely. His black boots crunched on the undergrowth. On top he wore a white tunic and black wool vest with a black leather belt around his waist carrying his sword. Around his neck was a silver pendent worked into the Fire symbol hanging on a silver chain.
He may be 27 years old, but he was still youthful at heart. His wife and the baby had died in child birth when he was 21 and he had not met anyone else since. Then when his father died a year ago and he had to take over the clan Zethar became very preoccupied. All in all, he was starting to feel lonely and hopeless even as he hated the thoughts in himself.
As he stomped along through the growth Zethar began to wonder what he was going to do with his life now. The war was over and he was the Clan Leader. Dragons were afoot now, but that was not a direct problem just yet. He wondered again if he was cut out to be the leader of this Clan or if he would ruin the town.