He wasn't a little boy anymore. He had filled the shoes of being a knightly, noble man. Kind, gentle, thoughtful. He wasn't a typical Lyall in looks of course, but his personality certainly was. A wondrous man with a wanderer's heart. He had done fine outside of the lore, found a family to stay with. They weren't your typical family, it was more of a rag-tag group of friends that had taken him in. He'd learned a lot from them too. While he had always been a kind pumpkin being with those other pumpkins had taught him more about what it meant to be kind. That perhaps being a king and ruling wasn't everything. That in fact, being a simple member of a group meant more than anything, you were the gears that kept the world going. Somewhere in learning the way of life from them, Deacon realized he needed to go home. He was two now and his parents weren't exactly the youngest when he was born. The Archer-Lyall wished to see them before time was up.
The young man figured once he got back into the Lore, it wouldn't be too hard to find the willows. He figured even the trip would be easy if he could make it before winter hit. His thoughts would keep him company too. While the rag-tag group he had been staying with offered one of themselves to go with he refused. He'd feel bad if something happened and the one who went with couldn't return. Deacon also knew a trip alone was better for him. He could put his morals to the test and the reward would be all the more glorious.
He was unsure whether he had bounded into the Lore yet or not but something in his gut told him to keep going. A familiar presence of the tall cedar woods and thick snow had him feeling comfortable. Deacon thought briefly about his family. He remembered his first winter he had a moment with his father. Sitting in the snow looking out onto the lands. Talks about Golden Boy, learning to be just like @Angier and @Elettra , even talking about ruling the Willows one day. Something that his father said that day always stuck with him, though.
"Wherever ya 'ventually end up, yer mother an' I will be right behind ya. You will 'ave our support. No question 'bout it."
Deacon couldn't help but yearn to know if that was still true. Did they support his choice to leave? Did they even know he left the lands? The young man licked his cold ebony lips in thought. He knew overthinking everything would have him making wrong choices and turns. In a fight with his mind, he shook his head and took a spot by the snowy roots of one of the tall trees. A quick rest would do him good, no need to over exert himself in this weather unless he wanted to end up like any buried plants.