alexander calloway -- d2 -- [cb]

They raised me to be a man of winter and harsh conditions, despite the golden river running through our house they never let dip my tongue in the sweet nectar because spoiled boys always grew up to be weak men. I took after Father in that respect, never complaining about the harsh nights when they would tell me to get out of bed and leave my skin raw with bruises with wooden swords and harsh words of encouragement. "That would be your cannon if it wasn't me holding this sword." It hurt but I grit my teeth and it only drove me to strike harder and harder until he called for my surrender flag. "That's enough."

I still find myself dreaming despite the obvious demand that I pay fucking attention. I still find my gaze tilted towards the sky, imagining the heliocentric movement of the universe. Running my left hand through rather long, dark hair and facial hair hugging my jaw and dark brown eyes finding the solace in the sky. I'm a dreamer on the inside, burying my tendencies within my chest and making sure no one but the people I hold close can see beneath the surface.

I'm six foot and boast of a strong stature, I can and I will fight whoever tries to overstep their boundaries and see what I don't want them to see. I was raised to be a boy of harsh conditions and a man of winter, I don't wither when placed naked in the forest of wolves and the pit of snakes, I thrive because it's where I belong.

I can bury dreams within my bones when I need to; it's how I belong.