Change Of Season
There was always a sense of odd-one-out in his bones when he was out with his fellow natives. He always stood out with his rusty, copper hair and freckles...with his strange, green streaked eyes while everyone else had long, straight, gorgeous raven hair, deep, dark, brown eyes and even, mahogany skin tone. Alat'lama always sort of kept to himself...helping out where he didn't need to say much or be much involved with everyone. He was a sort of indirect being, always attempting to do things to help without being in the lime light like the warriors or hunter of the tribe...however...he had a strange knack for those things. Everyone was always telling him how strong and fast and skilled he was and how he should go out for a hunt and such but...he never found himself interested in those things unless everyone was in mortal danger...
The wind picked up on the hillside, throwing him out of his thoughts. His eyes fluttered open to the grass tickling his cheeks and sides. It was late in the autumn day and he could see people out in the fields, coming in and out with their weaved baskets and waving joyfully to one another. Looking up to the sky, it was probably about time he go back in to the village...but maybe he could stick back for a few...just long enough to enjoy the partial sunset.