Starting the day....

The room lit by a single candle, burning weakly on the corner of the writing desk, the young man sets down his quill. A few grey hairs push through into his blonde goatee, and he rubs his eyes. The journal beneath his leathery hands has small sketches of weaponry in design, as well as paragraphs of writing, notes filling the margins.

He sighs.

"It's time to finish the shipments of the armor for the Guard..." He thinks, "I need to get to the City tomorrow." His thumb brushes along the pages of the journal. "Did I put up a notice about tomorrow's trip?" His brow furrows as he leans back in his chair, fingers coming up over his eyes. "I'm sure I did." This he says aloud, wetting his lips.

His cloak bears the crest of the South, discarded easily and placed gently over a chest. "I need to meet with Laehin..." Shaking his head slowly, he lowers his gaze to the floor. "Kyjrn," he corrects mentally. "Not Laehin."

Leaning low over the bed, his fingers press into the blankets. Kneeling beside the bed, his cheek pressing to the foot of the bed.."Caye," he calls aloud. "I miss you so much..."

As the first light of day filters into the room's single window, leather gloves are slipped over weathered hands, and the dying candle is snuffed out with a small pinch.

Sliding the buckle closed on the old, worn black pack, his fingers brush over the old smithing symbol. He smiles, though a lingering look of sadness holds to his features.

The braided belt perpetually holds his two daggers, in their frogs, and he cinches it tightly around his waist. His nostrils flare, and his eyes narrow as he checks the position of each blade, each immaculately cleaned and maintained, honed razor sharp within their scabbards.

Lastly, the cloak is reclaimed, brushed out flat across the bed, and carefully donned. The black stained cherry clasp is fastened at his throat, and he adjusted it's drape, displaying the new falcon crest across the splay of his shoulders.

His expression is held stoic, now, as he checks each glove, claiming his pack, and finally moving out into dawn of the Outpost. The sun finally breaking free over the forest, and pours into the dirt streets before him.