Dragoncrest Cliffs To recover his feet on the shining rails of his fate.

Maybe a @Blixen?

He'd hoped the snow and wind would've eased off by now, but still it persisted. He glowered out at it from beneath the furrowing of his silvered brow that evening, watching almost bitterly as it fell thickly. He would need to venture out and assume his share of a patrol along their Western border, and he was reluctant to step beyond the comfort of Hougeda and into the biting cold.

The world had been quiet following Heda's apparent suicide. While he felt the absence of his leader, Dacio hadn't been as close to her as he'd have liked. It was his own fault, as he'd spent most of the time since her return caught up in his grief over his own family's loss to really make the effort. Guilt - over this and the failure to complete Portia's mission - weighed him down, yet the ashen youth carried on as normal with a toughened exterior. If the death of his mother had taught him anything at all, it was that no level or mourning would change anything. Life would always carry on.

It seemed to be normal of Drageda's young warriors, to learn the hard way and cling to the notion that it might make them stronger.

Dacio breathed a sigh, and pressed a silver shoulder to the slick rock at the cave's mouth to await the time that he duty would call him away.