Honey-Tapioca

Lauren was born into a small family in the realm of Arcas, the members of which were himself and his father. He had never known his mother, Lauren was only given a name with no face to tie it to. “Tell me father, Jocelyn, my mother, what did she look like?” The young boy questioned his father, only to be met with the same response, over and over. “It’s irrelevant son, just a distraction.” Any sentence with that name laced into it was looked down on. Despite the repetitive answer that he’d grown accustomed to, Lauren asked his questions regardless. His father was the only other person he had to talk to when he wasn’t out hunting or gathering logs to help maintain the small cottage that was nestled into trees in the middle of the wilds. 

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His father, Elton, refused to leave the seclusion of the forest, choosing to teach Lauren on his own, keeping him from straying too far. Elton was not a forgiving teacher, there was little room for error, little room for disobedience. His Judgement was harsh, he treated Lauren with an Iron fist. “If your work goes unfinished once more boy, you’ll be left to the wilds.” Despite the fact that his father had his back to him, Lauren was able to picture the look on his father’s face. He was unsure of what to expect if he disobeyed his father’s request, most of the time he didn’t fulfill his threats, but on the off chance that he did, Lauren knew he’d be unforgiving in his punishment. “Do I make myself clear?” his father’s tone heightened in ferocity, causing Lauren to flinch before lowering his head. “Yes father, I’m sorry.” He replied in a hushed tone before moving to return to his work. 

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As Lauren grew to the age of 23, Elton allowed his son to have his independence. If he had wished to wander far off from the cottage, Elton wouldn’t question him, he respected his decisions and took pride in the belief that he raised his son well. Lauren had begun to explore the wilds for hours, hours that grew into days, then weeks, only returning to visit his father every now and then, bringing a rabbit or larger prey as a gift each time. With time, he had managed to wander far enough to encounter a form of civilization. “Norland?” Lauren mumbled to himself, his eyebrows knitting together as he did so, staring at the other with a confused gaze. They smiled back at him, picking up on his curiosity. “You seem to be an outlander, hm? I can tell just from the look on your face.” Lauren shook his head before speaking up. “No, I was born in this realm, I just...haven’t talked to anyone but my father. Elton, do you know him? My father?” A confused expression graced the woman’s features. “I’m afraid not.” Despite her confusion, the woman still maintained a smile. He observed the woman for a few seconds before breaking the silence and changing the subject. “I've heard of this city once before, my father had mentioned the name a few times when he spoke of The Red Faith.” The woman's face lightened up when she heard the name being mentioned. “Your father knew of the Allfather? It isn't a coincidence that I stumbled upon you then, hunter.” The woman stretched out a hand towards Lauren, her smile growing wider. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind learning a thing or two about your father's people?" Lauren was surprised by the way she worded her sentence. "My father's people?" He questioned as he hesitantly grabbed the hand offered to him. "Your father sounds like he was rather knowledgeable when it came to The Red Faith, and judging by your looks, it's not surprising." She paused for a minute, looking Lauren directly in the eyes. "Your father, he must've been a Norlander himself." 

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(Extra physical description, just for fun :)) 

Every feature of Lauren’s appearance made it clear that he didn’t care to spend time on looking presentable. He  stood at about 6’1, his dark brown hair was messy, littered with well defined curls that barely met his shoulders. A few freckles decorated his honey colored cheeks, his tired eyes were colored with a pale green that appeared to look gray at first glance. He had a muscular build to match his broad shoulders, wearing light fur clothing that was kept in decent condition. A few stains and splotches of dirt clung to his clothing.