Neverwinter Forest an eidolon named night

Very short posts to get all of my threadlogs up to date. ♥ I am sorry for the lack of quality and length.

The Neverwinter fledgling had spent the day sparring, racing, and wandering with Rannoch, and every last bit of energy had been wholly wrung from his growing body. He sprawled on the den floor in a puddle of dirty black fur — his paws ached with exertion, the tender pads still soft and unaccustomed to the long miles their adventures had added up to; his ribs hurt from the repeated losses he’d suffered in sparring with his barrel-chested brother; even his nose seemed painful from the sheer amount of new scents they’d catalogued today. He wanted nothing more than to sleep and not feel anything at all, but every time his muddy yellow eyes drifted shut, another thought occurred to him that had them flying open again. He shifted with a discontented grunt, trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with him. He didn’t think he was sick.

Cypress possessed an intense need to understand the world around him — but every time he thought he knew all there was to know, something changed. He met someone new, or he felt something different, or he went somewhere unfamiliar. It was safe to say he felt a bit overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of information he had taken in over the past few weeks, and the restlessness this onslaught engendered was always worse at night. He was already showing a high propensity for internalizing his thoughts and feelings until he’d wrestled them into something he could work with or express comfortably, but tonight he limp-shuffled over to his father’s sleeping form and gently nosed at the Frostfur patriarch’s heavily-muscled shoulder. He half-hoped @Scimitar would not wake up — he couldn’t have put into words what he was saying or how he was feeling — but at the end of the day, Cypress Benvolio Frostfur, for all his posturing and pretending, was a very small boy who depended heavily on his parents for love and comfort.