![]() What made him want to care for this boy so suddenly? A small cut was on his forehead, his brown hair disheveled, his cheeks streaked from past tears, overcome by the rain. Dirk held him in his arms, and he had been so very light, like a bundle of twigs he would crush for the brewing of his tea. When he had found Lloyd during that storm, the boy had nearly brushed with death, saved by the nature of a great animal, its legs twisted from catching the child in a fall. The humans only constant was that their children would grow to take their place. ![]() Not like stone that, even when it changed with the winds, it remained standing. They always seemed to wilt like roses, growing so beautifully before succumbing to the chill. It was so easy to miss their time spent, to see their faces merged together with each client he had ever spoken with. A dwarf made his roots in one place, and while he was different from his brethren, he still treasured the constant of his home, even if the mountains aged along with him.įor humans, it was quick and fleeting, their lives full of iridescence. It had been over four centuries, and the mountains that lined Iselia no longer looked the same when he had been a young boy. It was soft and brooding for Dirk, aging him along with the slow creep of ivy along the boulders that lined the cliffs, or the changing shape of the mountains, the wind brought on by night sanding them down, creating arches and crags. ![]() The difference between dwarves and humans was always time.
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