Depths of Peril Site Update
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Draaien pushed his way past the other orc boys. The tall one shoved him in return, but let him pass. He didn't fear any of them, though some, like the tall boy, were older than his ten years. The adults wouldn't tolerate a fight on the trail, and if any held a grudge, he enjoyed a brawl after the grueling day's march. His side ached. After stretching his arms, he adjusted the heavy sword strapped to his belt. He was clumsy with it, still new to the art of war. Draaien watched the adults closely, and not just at battle.
He was meant for great things, and felt it in each beat of his heart. The old orc woman said the same. Time, a restless runner, egged him on to his future glory, of retribution, and of war. The desire pressed upon his soul. It infiltrated every thought, dripped in every breath. He wouldn't miss his opportunity. Draaien looked for it at every turn. He shadowed the adult males while the other boys held back.
