Noctisardor Bypass set fire to the roses on my grave

worripa knows he shouldn't be at the borders by himself; has been told numerous times by many voices of the adults in charge of watching him to avoid them until they all blurred together into one reprimanding chorus. even so, he does not listen to them. at first, yes. but as he grows taller and into the lanky stage that would sooner rather than later give way to the illusion of adulthood from a distance, he becomes more ...rebellious.

reckless.

driven by abandonment and wrath and the desire to protect and keep safe what was his. what remained, at least.

each day, it felt like the war reaper discovers new ( and perhaps alarming ) things about himself. he grows ever more increasingly food aggressive instead of mellowing it out with age. his surly and brooding demeanor sharpens into the defenses of an ever strengthening fortress; and with each pace of the borders he obsesses over the differing scents with the hopes he might find one that doesn't belong so he could lash out with territoriality and unbridled aggression.