[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjk2LjEwZjhmZS5RbTkzZVc0Z1JXeHRkMjl2WkEsLC4xAAA,/aldith.grunge.png[/img]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/5Gj1OD9.png[/img]
[color=cyan]Time:[/color] Afternoon
[color=cyan]Location:[/color] Forests near River Port
[color=cyan]Interactions:[/color] Zephyrin[@Howlsofwinter], Kenia[@Tae], Arwen?[@princess] 
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As he watched the wyvern draw its last haggard breath, Bowyn grinned with satisfaction. He had no interest in why the wyvern attacked, only the sense of victory for having killed it. And with that feeling came the guilt, the knowledge that this wasn’t how a fairy was supposed to feel about killing. He shouldn’t get any joy from it, killing with magic was a deep perversion of a gift made to protect and celebrate nature. He had used that gift not only to kill dark elves but now a creature of the forest. One that could not reasonably be held accountable for its actions, it wasn’t an action that should bring him joy, but to watch it die had brought him a spark of that. It had killed Boreas, and he felt the missing weight upon his shoulder. He had nothing to dull that pain, not even a drink to stop it from all crushing down on him.

The thought of Boreas brought a heavy weight to his chest and it was hard to breathe. His only friend for so many years, gone. Beady eyes that he could trust not look at him and see what others surely saw. The reason he couldn’t go back to his own village. The knowledge that when his own people saw him they must know; that out of dozens who had died he was the least worthy to still draw breath. The first time he’d ever killed a dark elf he had found it cathartic, it had felt like validation that he was worth something. Worth life for having taken it from another, proof that he had more strength than he thought. He had found himself horrified at this part of himself. He stayed away from violence as much as possible, and that had made it easier to pretend it wasn’t part of his nature. He had watched a massacre, seen the evil in those willing to give in to that nature. It hadn’t been what he wanted for himself back then. But it was clear that there was power in that, the wyvern lay dead, and he survived. They had all survived, except for Boreas, but the bird knew what he was doing, he was making sure they all stayed safe, he had shown Bowyn how to be brave. It hadn’t been mercy or kindness that had saved them, it had been through violence that they all now lived. 

Bowyn knew that he was not a good man, but good men didn’t win wars, didn’t overthrow kings, and couldn’t protect those close to them. Bowyn knew he would go to horrible lengths to achieve his goals. He also knew he’d have to keep that part of himself buried until necessary. If others saw it, he’d be alone again. He’d thought he’d been alone before, but he’d always had Boreas at his side, to force him to keep going. Now, now what did he have? He had a chance at vengeance, for everything he’d lost. A chance to, if not destroy, at least hurt the lich he held most responsible. He had Torvi and Belle, who somehow cared about him, somehow managed to make the rest of the world seem a little more like a place he could stand. He had this new group, he wasn’t nearly as close to them, but he wanted to keep them safe too. None of them had run, they had all fought together, and that bonded him to them. They were all worthy of his trust, and he found them all to be good company. 

Even though the fight was done, he still felt impossibly cold from his own magic. He shivered uncontrollably and tried to calm himself enough to feel warmth again. Before the forest here had felt almost unbearably warm and now warmth seemed like a distant memory. His teeth chattered and his skin had remnants of frost upon it. His attention turned from his own thoughts to Arwen who moved closer and drew him into a hug. For a moment he remembered warmth, felt the cold of his magic wane, and Bowyn felt calm again. He no longer saw his own breath appearing in clouds from the cold that radiated around him. 

[color=cyan]“Thank you. I guess I was wrong, you fight well human, but I still don’t plan to ditch you in the forest.”[/color] He tried to offer Arwen a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. He followed Arwen over to a tree where he placed his own flower crown on the ground as well. He hadn’t cried for Boreas, the attempt had frozen to his face during the fight. He was too exhausted for tears now anyway. Instead, he managed a sad smile as Kenia built a rock monument and engraved a wyvern scale for Boreas. He was more than a bit surprised that the rest took the time to pay tribute to his friend. This also brought him warmth, he did not feel as alone as he thought he would without his friend. Kenia placed Boreas’s flower crown in his hand and began to sing a mournful song. He placed the flower crown beneath the wyvern scale and smiled at how shiny the grave marker was. 

[color=cyan]“Boreas always loved shiny things, he would like this a lot. Thank you.”[/color] Bowyn said softly. 

[color=cyan]“He would expect us to continue, we shouldn’t stay here long. We should take what we can from the beast; its horns, hide, teeth, they’ll be worth something at the market. Shouldn’t let it go to waste.”[/color] Bowyn added as he looked back over to the corpse of the wyvern. It was easier to think practically, there were things that needed to be done, he had to focus on that now. If he spent too long thinking about loss, and about Boreas, he would only lose the will to keep going, and it would be so much easier to just sit and wallow. They had to make it to the river port, once they were somewhere safe, then he could allow himself to feel the pain. Right now, he was too numb and exhausted for it all, but the grief loomed, threatening to hit him all at once if he let it. When it did hit, he needed to not be sober, needed something to soften its blow.