The wind bit harshly at the tanned arms of the large dunlending. as he stood at the top of a harsh drop that if a foot was wrongly placed, it would plummet him to his death. His fur cloak raised up behind him, as the air hit him head on. For once the bear hood that usually covered his aggressive face was pushed back, and his tangled hair lifted upright in the wind current. Though the enraged face stayed the same, the mind of the wildman was hard at work.
Less than two weeks ago, Pren had turned another year older though he did not celebrate as he once did by drinking, feasting and laughing with his few friends. This time he spent it walking, and walking, and walking as he returned to his home of Dunland. Even though he picked up a companion on the way, a derudh by the name of Vynyta, he did not tell her nor celebrate with her. Instead, he simply trudged on and on. Only now did he have time to think back on the past year..
It started strange, as he remembered it at least. He was part of a company that was not a clan.. the Fateless Wanderers, led by Hammer-man. "I was not one of them..", he thought to himself. "I was their -pet-. Their item that was only let out when they needed killing done. Weaklings.." He growled out as he remembered them, as images returned to his mind, which made him shook his head violently. "If only I took my chance and killed them when I did..".
Turning from the cliff, he wandered down the small incline that was covered with trees, being careful not to slip on the leaf-litter that had been covered by the winters snow and frost and now started to decay. His hand ran over the bark of an oak tree, as he remembered of the second thing that came to his mind. Gwennol.
After having fought with Hammer-man, he was washed up on the shore of a lake after falling into a river. Tied up and bloody, with his furs soaked before she came and rescued him. The young derudh, who he journeyed with and even did what he thought he would never do. He married her, fell in love with her, and just as she mentioned she was with his child.. she disappeared. And along with her leaving, the good in his heart left too.. For sixty days and sixty nights, Pren stood at their hut in Dunland as awaiting her return. Every day he would throw a fit of anger at her disappearance, breaking both bones and homes.
Anger overtook his mind, and he left Dunland as heading for the lands that he thought caused it all. Riding up the Greenway, he entered into Bree and started slaughtering and killing. Assaulting anyone who even would breath close to him. Being punished though even that would not stop him. The only thing that kept him going, was the anger that burnt where joy once was.
Once again he left, after having killed and left a scar upon Bree that would not fade for a long time to come. "Bree... that town... I should of BURNT IT WHERE IT STOOD!!", he shouted at himself, making birds fly from the trees as his fist collided with the gnarled brown skin of the trees as his dark glare focussed upon a branch. His hand wrapped around it, as he snapped it off before throwing it towards the cliff as he roared out. Now, he had talked to himself, though out loud.
"YOU ARE A FAILURE, PREN!!, his palm struck him into the forehead as he growled out. The world spun around him, as his eyes shut tight as he repeated the words "failure". No wife, no son. He stormed down the hill with rage filling his mind, images and voices accompanying them. An orchestra of anger echoed in his ears.
"This year.. things shall be different! Even if I do not have a wife or son by the end of it! I shall be with the Huntsman in his halls, killing the forgoil with him!!", he spoke to himself. Though the Cadwgan inside him spoke these words, as the warrior Pren receded in his head..
"Yes.. things shall be different..", the wild man muttered again as calming down, wandering back to the camp with bloody knuckles..
