Stone Circle No Stranger To Pain

It was not his language as much as the language he was born too. His language was different. But he had taken into the one who had raised him. The one he called father. Which he wondered if these little ones now growing had one.

I did. He spoke on a whisper, body freezing up as she drew near him. She sniffed at the scars that now littered him. Proof that he was worthy of the name his father had given him. Worthy of the life he had lead. Though was he really. He had been no better than the youth he had fought. Taking something that wasn't his, that was offered out of something he wasn't sure of.

I am alone in most of the sense. I live near the coast with a pack of sea witches. But the are not entirely fond of men. he chuckled quietly.

He was there because he loved the sea, and no other reason. He could probably disappear and they would not mind. Though. He was older. And he owed them a great debt.