Soft hands pulled at the tip of his hair. There was always this odd clump that would stick straight up on the back of his head. It was a pain to try and straighten out and even when he'd managed to look presentable, his mother seemed to have a nasty habit of pulling the thing right back up. It only took a handful of seconds to undo what had taken him an hour.

[b]"Can you stop that?"[/b] He held his hands up in protest, trying in vain to block the nimble fingers as they plucked away at his mane. Nothing he did could stop the assault.

"And who are you trying to impress?" His mother's voice had always been light and soft. Whenever she'd spoke so close to him, her words seemed to flow from within instead of from her lips. Even now as he tried to feign ignorance it felt so. "Could it be Sally? That awfully adorable girl from the other side of camp?"

[b]"No Mom... please stop..."[/b]

"You'd better hurry... we're about to head to mass and you're hair looks a mess." She continued to poke fun until he finally gave up, slumping into a defeated heap in her arms. His face fell in the crook of her elbow and he mumbled something that she couldn't quite catch. After a strong embrace and a kiss on the forehead... she pulled him away and fixed his hair for him. It was done in two strokes. "What was that honey?"

[b]"It's not going to matter anyways..."[/b] He retorted but she gave him a cross look.

"Oh? And why is that? You think these silly girls aren't going to like a handsome man like you?" As she spoke, she continued to straighten her boy out. Short child with a thicket of black for hair and small stubby nose. He'd dressed himself this day as he normally did. The wrinkled button up that'd been pulled from the corpse of a boy who no longer needed it. Pants that had been too large for him so the cuffs were removed to compensate. Worn shoes, frayed tie, his favorite muddied jacket to cover it all up. Fabric was pulled and pushed until it all rested evenly on her boy. There were freckles covering his cheeks which she gently rubbed out of habit. To her, he was the most adorable thing in the world.

[b]"No... I mean... what if... I never make it?"[/b] The boy opened his mouth to continue but she cut him off abruptly, her face becoming very serious.

"What did I tell you about that? Hm?.....What did He say?" She stared him straight in the eyes looking for the answers she already knew were there. Of course the boy knew the words well. In fact he'd learned most of the words from the book already. Every Sunday was a lesson and every night was a test.

[b]"Let there be light..."[/b]

"And so there will be light child. We're almost there... our Land of Milk and Honey. Just keep following the light."

[center]---[/center]
Cypher squinted in his state of rest as light flooded his tent and splashed against his cold face. The warmth was nice but the blood red was abrupt and disorienting and he immediately shot upright.

"Sorry!.... sorry my King..." The boy held his hands up in fright, his face inches from the open maw of a revolver. "I didn't mean to frighten you..."

[b]"Boy!"[/b] Cypher squinted at the child through heavy lids and weary eyes. He was barely nine, about his height when he was the same age and probably just as frightened too. He'd been given the odd nick of [b]"Fraz..."[/b], a result of his rather peculiar ability. [b]"...What the hell are you doing busting into my tent like an idiot?"[/b] He dropped his arm, placing the gun down to rest in between them, the muzzle still pointed at the kid.

"Right... right... uh..."

[b]"Well? Get it out."[/b]

"The scouts!" He exclaimed a little too loudly. Cypher winced. "They're back... and... and.... and they found it!"

Suddenly all the fog in his head dissipated. [b][i]...They're back...[/i][/b] Throwing the thin sheet off his body, he vaulted to his feet, threw on whatever was in reach, and stepped outside into the frigid morning air, the stubborn clump of hair on his head bouncing behind him.