Ahem Ahem! Gather 'round children cuz today ill be telling you a mystic story- okay this is a boring start right?
Well, have you heard of the warrior that never stops? No? Have you been living under a rock your whole life? Damn
He never misses his...
The morning rays fell on the crescent windows of the small house, surrounded by shrubs and bush. Small butterflies linger in the distance creating heavily noises of their ecallient wings.
The boy, known as Aoi, rubs his heavy hands on his eyelids waking up his yet sleeping brain. He fundles out his bedsheets and stretches so loud, even the birds outside could hear it.
A silent voice cowers the room "Good mornin Young Aoi"
Aoi lifts his head to see a tall man standing at the door, a bloody axe in his right hand and a dead bleeding deer in his left. Aoi motions his body up and walks past the grizzly man.
"Oh, look who's angry this fine morning" the man states, curiosity filled in his very eyes
Aoi turns back, "Give it a rest, will ya? old man"
The man laughs, placing the bloody axe on a handle which rested on a wall in Aoi's room. Meanwhile, Aoi washes his clustered face of sleep. The mirror reflects his handsome, yet childish face. Our Aoi is now 14, an age of growth and of a boy turning into a man.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
No happiness could reach his eyes, yet he still gave a fake smile. Admiring himself like a prince, which he could never be. Aoi strolls out of the room, only to find the man launching a plate of breakfast against him.
"Food is important for the growing cub" he smiles. As of the man's appearance seems to clear out, he wore a long ragged cloak, gashes of knife marks across his naked chest under his old top. His hair was all messed up as if he never got a wink of sleep.
Aoi grabs the plate, softly. "Hey old man, have you heard of a make-over?"
The man chuckles, "Why i do so. But this old wolf dont need one, i look cool like this"
There is a roll of eyes from Aoi, he walks along the crocking floorboard to a small dining room.
The man who was now following him paused mid-way. He sighed and opened his jaw, "You're mother would have loved to see you ri-" Before the man could finish his sentence, a dagger lay under his neck inches away from his throat apple.
"Dont. Talk. Of that women in front of me. Dear Uncle"
. . .
There was silence in the dining room, broken off by the slow chewing of food in Aoi's mouth.
