Swiftcurrent Creek acqua più blu

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it was the simplest of questions, for did not his kind tend one another? but armand found himself locked outside that milieu; though he had intended to once more be drawn into the fold, it was never to be. not again. and now, even with winter fast upon his heels, he did not approach a pack to embrace him. his eyes settled upon the child — he observed the wilting of one ear, something he did not think he had beheld before. it granted the boy an interesting spice to an otherwise innocent face. 
"why was i cast out? or why am i not watched by my fellows?" armand laughed softly, willing to admit his confusion only unto the boy called tambourine. it had been an anchoring discourse for him thus far, the broken child who allowed his mind to travel shrouded in a constant haze, if only to guard himself from the agonies of prying words.[/tr][/td][/table]