KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
Lately, the number of things Korbin didn't like had expanded. Before, they had been few and far between. Hunting, fighting. Getting beat by his older siblings at hunting and fighting. But with every loss and tragedy in his family, as the precious few things he loved were taken from him, his dislikes increased. Change, for example. Reckless behaviour. Secrets, laziness, rudeness... and Outlanders. The latter, because they inhabited every other quality he had come loathe, and their presence forced on him the need to hunt, and would inevitably force him into fights too.
Still. Disliking something was never an excuse for not doing it, so just like most young men - and no few of the young women - he went to the old training ground in the morning, after chores were done. Most of the people he usually sparred with were out hunting, and the place was almost empty.
No matter; he could manage on his own if need be. Pealing off a layer of clothing, he began to warm up, letting his mind drift as he forced his body to follow the familiar, tedious patterns.
Still. Disliking something was never an excuse for not doing it, so just like most young men - and no few of the young women - he went to the old training ground in the morning, after chores were done. Most of the people he usually sparred with were out hunting, and the place was almost empty.
No matter; he could manage on his own if need be. Pealing off a layer of clothing, he began to warm up, letting his mind drift as he forced his body to follow the familiar, tedious patterns.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
