[center][h2][color=0076a3]Alder Reynolds.[/color][/h2]

He couldn't complain, the room was [i]alright.[/i] 

When he'd first arrived there, he'd expected something less perfect. Maybe he was expecting something that reminded him of wreckage to reflect the feelings that he felt about moving here or maybe something that would get him closer to figuring out what had become of his sister. That's all he cared about, right? Finding his sister some day had been first priority for so long, sometimes he didn't even think about it anymore and that scared him the most. No, this room was [i]alright.[/i] It seemed like it had been catered to him somehow, it reminded him of his old bedroom in the twenties. It was definitely smaller but the touch of class and time was still there. It was like being home, it had been such a long time since he'd been home. He had almost been moved to tears when he'd first seen it, luckily he'd restrained himself.

He hadn't brought much, just his clothing and his wallet, some photos in a brass box that now sat on his bedside table. He didn't [i]really[/i] feel like he lived here yet, he felt like an observer. He felt like a scientist scoping the place out for some evidence that it was any good for him, he felt strangely detached. He always got this way when he moved and he'd moved an awful lot over the years, there was something about uprooting and going somewhere else that left a bad taste in his mouth. It took him time to get used to new surroundings, he couldn't say he was happy yet but he could say that he would be in time. It was just all so [i]strange[/i] and [i]new.[/i]

He hadn't really left the house much since he'd moved in but he guessed it was about time. Sulking about wasn't going to get him any more used to this strange city or its strange inhabitants. He drew in a breath through his nose to settle his growing nerves and got dressed as quickly as he could, opting for a black tank top that showed off the disfiguring scar that marred his shoulder. He really [i]was[/i] proud of his scars, they were the proof that he'd been fighting. Not just against the children of the Dawn but against the children of the Dusk as well. Those scars would make anyone think twice before messing with him, he didn't know why he was still so worried that someone wanted to pick a fight with him but he was. As he left the dorm, his skin was prickling with gooseflesh.

The city was beautiful, strange but beautiful. It reminded him of a fairytale, it reminded him of imagination and childhood. It was [i]beautiful.[/i] He almost wished that it had been open earlier, with all the beautiful things he'd seen in his life, it was by far the [i]most beautiful.[/i] He could see the different children of the Dawn and Dusk as they moved about throughout the market square, buying and selling things. A redheaded elf was eagerly trying to sell his wares and he could see a dark haired man bargaining with a child of the Dawn. He couldn't help but wondering if there was anything that he'd be willing to buy from here, drawing his gaze over the different stands, he felt like he was floundering. 

People bustled past him while he tried to settle on something to look at. His steps were measured but they weren't assured, he was barely paying any attention to where he was walking. There had to be [i]something[/i] that appealed to him, surely someone was selling something that he could buy.[/center]