His bones ached, the cold had nestled itself deep within them and his sweater did little to fight the biting wind. He had watched as his mother wandered into the forest, a cigarette, stained pink hanging limply from her chapped lips and her dark hair swinging loosely behind her and he'd been half tempted to follow but she'd made it abundantly clear that he was to stay put because if anything did happen to her he'd more of a hinderance than a help. He was sure she hadn't meant to be cruel but her words had stung all the same.
He was seventeen and while he had managed to awaken his magical ability he lacked control. His powers seemed to come and go as they pleased, it was embarrassing to be reminded of it but he'd laughed it had sounded fake even to his own ears but his mother either hadn't noticed or decided to ignore it. She was more than capable he thought to himself of dealing with whatever manner of creature that dwelled in the forest anyway. he'd look after the horses and the cart, until she returned. was what he wanted to think and do. But he couldn't.
His boredom began to gnaw at him, ache in the same way that the cold did.
"Ruby, Max you'll stay put right?" He asked as he lead the horses to a tree tying the reigns to a branch, they didn't respond of course, not that he'd been expecting them to. He paused at the tree line his mother would kill him if she found him and whatever she was hunting would also probably kill him too if his powers didn't switch on in time.
But she was hiding something. Had been for weeks. They usually moved from town to town relatively quickly but they had been in Zaera for weeks she was looking for something but she wouldn't tell him what, so he'd find it himself and he'd find it before her because if he managed to achieve a feat that she couldn't she would have no choice but to stop looking down on him and treating like a child.
with this thought in mind his resolve strengthened. he hadn't spent all that time tracing the map he'd found locked away in her dresser after all. He pulled out the small peice of parchement tracing the feint lines. He could barely read them in the darkness but the moon created just enough light that he could still make it out.