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[iamwardxn-blog]

      the water  of  the  river  is  temperate against his scarred skin;       welcomed relief from a long day of travel. the small pond was       a  blessing.  it offered clean water to bathe away the hard ride       west of alabaster skin.  the  horse  drunk  from  the  river itself       in line of sight of the warden-commander. his clothes, washed       clean, slowly was dried by the sun  from a low-hanging branch       on a tree. it was a gift from the maker.

                     his nude form dived  under  the water,                      the rush of it flowing  through  his hair.                      daylen emerged almost a minute later                      with  a  great   l u n g   full  of  air  and                      swung his  head  to clear his hair from                      his  eyes. he  remained  in  the  center,                      unawares of the one who approached.