Neverwinter Forest i am a lost boy from neverland

Dublin had grown nearly to his adult stature in the transitional time between fall and winter, his eyes changing from puppy blue to a brooding green that rivaled the loam of summertime forests. He hadn't quite filled his adult stature and, like most juveniles, remained thin, lanky and awkward. For his part, the boy barely noticed the passage of time— days turned into nights turned into days, on and on. He had grown more withdrawn in the absence of his father, and the loss of his uncle had introduced a cruelty of the world that the anxious youth wasn't entirely able to cope with.

In an effort to still his mind, he moved through the forest on the trail of some small animal— a squirrel, he thought, or perhaps a stoat.