"Poor Quarter Man"

He awoke slowly, disturbed from a sound sleep by the cawing of a lone crow perched high in the tree above him. Not too eager to become completely awake yet he closed his eyes and relaxed, vaguely only now becoming aware of the warm, rain soaked ground, seeping into his clothes, cooling his fevered skin while at the same time making him shiver as the sky darkened with rain heavy clouds. A breeze then wafted up, washing over his still form before moving on its way.

Reluctantly he then sighed and opened his eyes once again. The sight before him was one he had seen hundreds of times before. It was never any different. Sure the seasons changed, life changed all around him; but his path in life was a constant one; He had always been a wanderer. For as long as he could recall he never found himself wanting to stay in one town or anywhere else for more than a few years at a time.

Now as he lay shivering on the ground, he pulled the old dirt stained tunic close together, wishing in his mind that he were on a nice soft bed covered with thick blankets and clean sheets; But as much as he hoped he could have these things with every fiber of his being, he also knew he would not be content for long to have them.

Blinking back his wayward tear he sat up and maneuvered himself till he was leaning back against the tree he had slept under. Oh how his back ached, he could no longer hide the pain etched so deeply in the set of his mouth, his tense jawline, his tormented eyes. He never once complained, not because he did not have a right to, for sure, but because he had no one. Unless you could call that crow a friend.

For the most part he was a loner emotionally as well as physically. He was never one to reach out to anyone, rarely made eye contact and the ones who did pause on their way past him, the ones who did try to make some contact, well, only seconds would pass and as their smile of welcome, of greeting faded, as their eyes filled with confusion and maybe even a bit of hurt from his lack of response from their weak attempts at some contact with him, he would cast one careless glance in their direction, but never really see them, then simply continue his slow painful trek down the road.

He let his thoughts continue to wander as he huddled beneath his tunic. His hand once again found the small onyx ring in his pocket and he grasped it tight as a flood of tears stopped hiding and escaped. Such pain in his heart, although you would never guess from looking at him. The hardness in his eye was not only from a physical discomfort but also from the loss of his wife some fifteen years before.

What a fool I am, he thought to himself. She has been gone for a long time now but still his soul fairly ached just at the memories he still had inside of him. He lifted one hand up and held it over his heart. Not much longer had he to go, and it filled him with relief. He was only forty-three years old but at first glimpse he appeared to be a good twenty years older. He would welcome this last act, he yearned for it. Craved it as a beggar lusts after a morsel of food he spies upon the ground, only to have it snatched away by some feral animal before he can taste it for himself.

With a smile upon his weary features, he let his eyes close and once again saw his beloved in his minds eye as she was so long ago. Aye she had been a beauty, long black hair with a face that took his breath away. But what he remembered the most strongly was the color of her eyes. They were a deep green and clearer than any emerald gem ever seen by his eyes.

"Anron" a voice whispered, breaking his reverie of the past. He knew even after all these years that it was her, somehow it was her, and so he opened his eyes suddenly, wishing to see her again after all this time.

"Take my hand my love" She said softly. He stood and slowly reached out his hand to her, eager for her touch but afraid at the same time; and then their hands joined and a strange calm swiftly filled him up as he kissed her hand and gently placed the ring back onto her finger after so many years.

A few short moments later a young woman walking by saw him and knew by touching his cool cheek that he was gone now. She could not help but smile though because he was wearing a smile himself...

-Leyara Rin