in the quiet hours of dusk, stark moves from his rounds upon the palace walls, feet and legs aching from the exertion of a day spent well: training and patrolling.
the sky paints itself a myriad of rich colors, not unlike the murals he passes: and a glimpse upwards offers him a few glimpses of stars; though the thick clouds conceal the most of them.
though his muscles ache for a bit of rest, his mind is restless in his body's stead. rest would not be an option for some time; and while he had meant to cut a path to his quarters, he lingers at the cenotes, content to admire the paintings.
the sky paints itself a myriad of rich colors, not unlike the murals he passes: and a glimpse upwards offers him a few glimpses of stars; though the thick clouds conceal the most of them.
though his muscles ache for a bit of rest, his mind is restless in his body's stead. rest would not be an option for some time; and while he had meant to cut a path to his quarters, he lingers at the cenotes, content to admire the paintings.
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