OOC: Open to whoever feels like replying xD
The bright sun stretched its rays across Mossflower, wiggling its fingers through the trees of the forest with hope of touching sweet soil. Mossflower was silent, despite the fantastic weather. It was odd how on such an amazing day the forest could be condemned from life. Yet, at the same time, it was understandable. After all, on the war-torn isle of Villenth, it didn't matter how gorgeous the day was; the forest could be silent as the grave. Unfortunately, this also meant it was a giant grave for unfortunate beasts.
So, to Kaden Winder, the self-exiled vermin prince from Villenth, it was just another day. The awkward silence that surrounded Mossflower didn't effect him in the slightest. In fact, if it did anything at all, it made the traveling insomniac weary. The blond furred weasel adjusted his black coat uneasily, realizing it was only attracting whatever heat crept through the tree tops.
His lost gray-blue eyes were half open, unamused, and showing every sign of a desire to sleep. The vermin yawned weakly. Sleep. It called to him unmercifully. Kaden had to fight it though. Growling to himself, he grabbed his arm and dug his claws into it, forcing himself to stay awake. Three long days Winder. You've been awake three days. You're looking to set a record. He thought smirking to himself.
The weasel scanned the forest as he walked. He hadn't eaten since the day before and that was breakfast. To make matters worse, judging by the heat and the position of the sun, it was noon. It was only going to get hotter. Sleep called for him once more. His stomach roared in hunger. Shaking his head, he forced himself to continue onward. Unfortunately, like all beasts, the more one doesn't sleep, the more psychotic one becomes. The insomniac groaned as his trail began to mentally fork. His eyes began to betray him. Knowing all too well he was losing his mind from exhaustion, he realized it was time to answer sleep's call.
Taking off his coat, he revealed red, blue, and black tribal tattoos that lined his arms and torso. The weasel shook his head once more, trying to prolong the his sleep for just a little longer. Taking his sheathed curved longsword, Duskbringer, off the belt on his jacket, he dropped it next to a tree. The weasel then proceeded by laying the jacket up against the trunk. A moment later and his body had forced him to the ground with his back up against the tree.
Slowly, he grabbed Duskbringer and pulled it close. In his other paw, he held onto his sheathed dagger on his waist belt. A couple minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, right? Remember, you're a vermin in the eyes of everyone here too. He warned himself before drifting into a dark slumber. Effected by his final thoughts, the tired weasel dreamed…
_"Mother," a young Kaden whimpered.
"Yes my Kaden," a beautiful yet aged weasel dressed in elegant robes and jewels asked softly, taking her bruised son in her arms.
"Why?" He inquired weakly, not caring to elaborate.
"Why what my child?"
"Why are we this way?" The young beast not much older than a dibbun cried. His older brothers had once again "sparred" too hard.
"Because it is our nature…We are vermin." She responded, looking hurt by her own words. The young child looked up at her, lost, confused, and feeling cheated. To this day, he still felt cheated..._