Work Text:
Under these skies he was born. He spends childhood exploring. He looks, listens, smells, touches, takes in all the world has to offer. He tastes things he shouldn't. He finds a favourite spot by the river. He plays with beetles in the bushes.
He raises children of his own, and desperately tries to stop them eating things they shouldn't, like his own elders did for him. Like them, he is only partially successful.
Under these skies he was born, and these lands he will defend to the death.
Death comes on horseback, takes without regard, and declares itself a hero.