Neverwinter Forest an eidolon named night

Cypress is feeling the feels. ♥

If Cypress had been given to theatrics, he might have thrown himself at his father’s paws with a sharply uttered, “LIFE, PAW. LIFE.” Much of his flair for the dramatic and macabre was reserved for his recollections and observations, however, and so he merely stated with the honesty of the very young: “I don’t know. Nothing, maybe.” He drew up alongside his father with a weariness that surpassed his age, leaning his small body against the Frostfur patriarch’s shoulder and taking great comfort in the fact that Eshe and Rannoch slept on. Casting a furtive glance toward the turquoise-eyed boy in particular, “Paw, I’m never gonna be big like you and Noch, am I?” he asked in a low, gritty undertone that was laced with begrudging acceptance. It was perhaps too early to tell, but at this point in the boys’ lives it was evident that Cypress was leaner, his muscles settling more lightly upon his frame. Though the boys might one day be matched in height, Cypress would never quite match Rannoch in sheer muscle mass.

The lump in his throat was big enough to choke on, but Cypress swallowed past it with clenched jaws and eyes squeezed shut. “Can I still protect the forest if I — if I don’t grow?” he asked, babyish tears stinging his muddy eyes and spilling down his cheeks. He hated to cry — he hadn’t done so since he was too young to control it — but the fear that drove his follow-up question caused a fresh set of rivulets to dig damp furrows through the velveteen of his cheeks. “Can you still be p-proud of me?” he hiccuped. Love was one thing; he knew his parents loved him unconditionally, for he had been surrounded by their warmth and protection and had no reason to doubt it. Pride, though, was another thing entirely — the idea that Rannoch would succeed where Cypress would fail was terrifying to the older boy.