Dawnlark Plains caught in your riptide

Erys had been right; the dark prince had been lurking in his footsteps after that night. prowling after the fool, mind muddled with his own discontent. stewing with residual anger, for he could not decipher he he'd felt so inclined to trail after a man so devious and repulsive. he uses his moral compass as an excuse, but the shrouded truth lay disregarded. perhaps he's too cowardice to confront it...or perhaps he's too prideful to accept it.

any question to his intent would be met with teeth and storm. he needed not explain himself to anyone, especially Erys.

fading tracks had led toward the mountainous north. a bitter irony that reminds him of the home he'd left behind, of the life he'd once lived. walls that used to swallow him, chains he'd allowed himself to sulk in. there's a scent too, one unmistakable. it makes his chest tighten, makes his skin itch. he doesn't think it's true, as his steps fall quicker. carrying him with haste toward the sound of a struggle.

a voice that used to scold him as a child for playing too rough with his gentle brother. a voice that used to soothe him during his fits of rage. and then he sees her looming over his scraggly companion. no teeth bared, as her wrath was something more silent. something more lethal. it reminds him so much of home that it hurts. 

why is she here? when had she left? what is she looking for?

a ghost he'd rather leave as a bittersweet memory now only a few feet away. he hates it, the way it rouses emotion to well inside him.

"mother?" followed by a sharp inhale of icy breath. eyes of emerald wide in disbelief, or was it welcome? relief?

there is no time to reminiscence, and there certainly is no time for a bittersweet reunion. she's crushing the windpipe of something he'd begrudgingly named his. "what the fuck is going on here?" a demand, though he hardly doubted his mother would act so rashly without proper cause.