Willow Ridge The Simplest of Times

October 22, 2014 | Mist — 31° F/0° C | For @Angier

Im An Archer By Looks

Deacon Archer Lyall

But A Lyall By Acts

The boy was growing found of hiding under the willow trees. Even if it did give his parents a good scare sometimes he enjoyed being able to be in a world of his own. Playing games of one or conversations of one behind the currents of a willow tree's branches. Today was no different either. The growing Archer Lyall found himself hiding under a willow tree. What exactly he was hiding from was a bit funny. He was keeping himself hidden from the mist that was making a home over the lands of Relic Lore.

Laying at the roots of the tree he wondered what exactly he could do. He could always go try and find "Golden Boy" (Lord Octavius) and see what he was doing or maybe he could drag one of his brothers, most likely Castiel, into playing with him. Though both of those didn't sound very fun to him. At least a the moment they didn't.

It was then the boy realized what he wanted. Deacon was craving some attention from his beloved father Angier. Knowing the best way to contact him was to call him he simply did that. Lifting his head he let his voice reach out as far as it could to call for his father. Yet he made sure to keep it a soft light tune as to not worry his father too much. He knew how his father could be sometimes when it came to being protective of the boys. Deacon liked to say it was his dad being "Better safe than sorry".

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Without herbs to gather or much exasperation to spare when it came to tracking down his three sons, Angier had resorted to traversing through the Willows, marking his territory as he went. The Ridge had lost another soul, it seemed, and the Leader was not about ready to let his and Elettra's borders go unattended to. They had let Deacon run off or had allowed a stranger to come into their lands without their knowing it before, and it would not happen again. He had just been around a particular tree, raking his nails down the frozen trunk when he heard his first-born's call.

At first his heart had dropped and rolled down into the pit of his stomach but upon deciphering the beckoning tone, the boy was merely requesting for his presence - perhaps some simple father/son time. The Lyall's tail, though it had already been raised high in the air as he went about his usual agenda, wagged and immediately he attempted to pinpoint the boy's location. For a time he wandered through the forest, displacing the dried and browning willow leaves from their whip-like branches as he went. Using his nose he seemed to have finally come upon Deacon's hiding place but, even if the lad's brown-and-black fur did not particularly blend in to the world around them, he couldn't immediately find him.

Angier let out an acknowledging bark as his pale yellow eyes scoured the land for any sort of movement, anticipating Deacon's emergence from wherever he had been hiding.