As the days grew colder the ebony youth remained close to the Ridge borders, acting as their unofficial bodyguard. It was not for the benefit of the Ridge wolves—truthfully, he was not interested in serving them. It was for his own personal benefit… so he could stay close to Adeltra and be there for her whenever she needed him. Life had not been easy for the pair, as they had both endured their own hardships, but throughout it all they had each other. That was all that mattered to Cyril. She was a big part as to why he had not followed his mother and brother south… he could not leave her.
Snow fell steadily from the sky, slowly blanketing the meadow. His breath hung in front of him in small clouds as he pushed through the snow-dusted grass. The snow made everything too quiet, but the Kael-Santoro preferred it. It reminded him of the mountain—barren and secluded. Although he had not spent much time atop the mountain he was the closest thing he had to a home after the devastation of Whitestone. The forest that Adeltra called home did not feel right, but the shadow boy was not ready to leave just yet. After the winter months passed through the Lore Cyril would stretch his legs once more, but for now he was content lingering near the Ridge borders. He continued to keep his distance, except when he dropped his weekly gifts to appease Sven and Ravenna, and pestered Adeltra whenever he could.
Except for today.
Today he decided to leave Adeltra to her duties and venture beyond the willows. The meadow wasn’t anything extravagant, or worthy of an adventure, but it was a nice change of scenery. Especially with the snow. He wasn’t always fond of the cold but the snow wasn’t horrible.
His paws dragged through the soft snow as he glanced around, his yellow gaze narrowing as he surveyed the winter wonderland. Not another soul to be seen. Perfect.