Sunset Valley and leave you like they left me here

@Aditya backdated some
quietly re-posts this

In the distance, the sun's golden descent lit the sky with a myriad of color; reminiscent of Paradise Garden, he noted distantly. Shades of salmon overlapped with peach and lilac, lined with bright white-gold along the horizon where the edges of the earth slowly swallowed the light of the sun. The air was damp and sweet, perhaps a bit chilled now; it would likely rain soon in the valley.

Alarian mulled this quietly. He would not move from where he had tucked himself among the slopes and curves of the land— perhaps not even until the next day. It was not exhaustion that rooted him so thoroughly, though he felt it saturating his bones further with each passing day, but fear. His home was no longer a home, he realized, and he was loathe to return; perhaps he'd just run away with Zamael.

Perhaps from a distance, the tiny figure splayed not five feet from a thin creek would seem lifeless. His coat was ragged, tangled in many places with various bits of flora caught among the mess of ash-and-ink; even a quick glance told of the malnutrition he suffered, as it had lent an unflattering gauntness to his figure and features. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest and the dull champagne of his slowly-searching gaze truly marked him as one of the living. He had no desire to move.
Instead he simply watched the world around him, and listened, and gathered his thoughts. There were many; not all of them made sense, and not all of them were reasonable. But they were his— and this hurt was his— and he would hold onto it as long as he could. He could not forget again how it felt to be here.