• PM To Join • Stitches by the Flames

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Navik
Posts: 80
Joined: Wed Feb 22, 2017 12:26 am
Race: Naerikk
Profession: Doctor
Renown: 15
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Stitches by the Flames

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7th of Cylus, 717
The fire crackled, sending light on the darkness of the night. Navik was sitting on a log, listening to the talk of the hunters without really taking part on it. He remembered when his father used to bring him to the Fire Pit, to ask help with some hunt or if any peculiar animal had been seen, or simply just share stories with the others. It always felt nice, like everyone was a big family that came together for a few breaks. The feeling was lost, though. Navik still appreciated the warmth the fire provided, but he never once felt the same fellowship as before. The hunters had became strangers, and he was probably a stranger to them as well.

Navik hugged himself, inclining his body forward, trying to absorb as much heat from the flames as possible. He missed many things, and although he was glad to come back to Desnind, sometimes he still felt like he didn't belong. A hunter said something that made two others laugh, and Navik half smiled, almost managing to grasp the feeling he was looking for. It wasn't successful, though.

At least it was warm. And the sky was beautiful, filled with stars. The Stew was exhaling a tempting smell, though, one that was so characteristic from Desnind, from his childhood and from the time spent with his father. While the taste sometimes was less than good, it was a meal he could always count on.

With a sigh, he searched inside his bag for the plate and the fork and knife he had brought with him. Serving a portion of the Stew, Navik considered for a moment to join the talk of the other hunters, before deciding against it and sitting back on the log he was in. His body shivered with the cold when he got away from the fire, but he would get used to it again soon enough.

Navik poked at the food in his plate, wondering if he should return home to eat with his father.
word count: 359

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