Around 18 years ago, in the woods outside of Grimslade
Through the woods ran a small boy, with dark red hair reaching his shoulders and a white smile plastering his face as he hurled around sticks and rocks at the mossy trees around. Behind him followed his father, Gwythyr. He was a short man with a lean build, with a great mane of bright red hair that reached down to his back and with a beard just as magnificent as that. His skin was tanned by the sun, and he walked with a great thin branch as a walking stick. This man was a Dunlending, from the Hill Lands over the River Isen though he had been living amongst the Eorlings for many years now : wearing their clothes, speaking their language and respecting their culture. His son was a spitting image of him, and would have been mistaken for a Dunlending himself it it wasn't for his slightly lighter skin and taller build, indicating that he was a half-blood.
"Son! Stop, and rest for a moment.", Gwythyr called out as he leaned back on a fallen log that had grown an exterior of soft moss. His son instantly stopped and ran back, hurrying to his father with his breath taken from him.
"Tad! Tad! I saw a bird!", said the excited young boy, waving around a stick like it was a sword.
Gwythyr laughed before patting the log next to him, taking in a deep breath as his keen brown eyes took in the greenery of the landscape. He spoke;
"Hund, my boy, do you remember what I told you to tell mother about these meetings?"
"Yes, tad! That we were just practicing hunting!", Hund grinned with a few quick nods, the five year olds eyes wide with wonder.
"Good.. if she ever found out she will have both of our hides skinned. Now then, look around you, son. Everything is green. Do you know who brings the greenery and richness to the lands?"
Hund pursed his lips together in thought, auburn hair falling down over his eyes as he lowered his head.
"Rhi Helvarch?", he asked.
"Good, good, you remember. Do you know who pleases Rhi Helvarch?", Gwythyr asked, and got a shake of his head in response. He continued,
"The Derudh do, my boy. They are friends with all.. earth and the trees, able to speak to the spirits and they give offerings to Rhi Helvarch to get something in return. Back home, they would kill a pure white ox at the start of the growing seasons so we would get a good amount of food from our crops."
The young boy stared on in awe and wonder, having heard much of his father's home over the many secret lessons on his ancestry.
"What else can they do, tad?"
"Hmf. They can do many things. They are the best healers that are in Dunland, especially the old and wise ones. They do small rituals, giving spirits from one into another -- though be wary, my boy. For every time a new life comes to the world, another life must die.", the Wildman's dark brown eyes looked down to his son with a smile before he gave him a scruff to the hair.
"I'll teach you them one day, like my father taught me. Now, show me what you have learnt of our tongue, though if you speak a single word of it within Grimslade.. the guards will have to beat me to taking your tongue out first.", the elder laughed and looked towards his son with expectant eyes.
"Rydw i'n Hund ap Gwythyr. Rydw i'n dod o Grimslade. Uh... un, dau.. tri!", the young boy laughed as his father nodded his approval at the words in his home tongue.
"Good, now let's be off back home, before your mother burns us with pokers for being late for food."
