Silverlight Terrace [M] Left and Leaving

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It was time again.

Seven years of a self destructive pattern of behavior later, and what had changed? Very little, Whip supposed. The prodigal son of the great Redhawk family might have once thought his return triumphant -- now, it was a shallow whimper. He was older now, in a tired, haggard sort of way. Though, he still did not bend. Despite himself, Whip survived. 

His father had been a younger man when he had passed. Whip no longer saw the great Peregrine Redhawk or his elder brother Nightjar when he stared in the reflecting pools of fresh rainwater. They were men of strength, products of a bygone day, and he was something else. Sad eyes, longing for something that had never been stared blankly back, punctuating a scarred face of dappled grey.

Overhead, a raven cawed and gave flight.