Cydan
The Weary Shepherd Seeking a New Dawn
I lead not with banners, but with steps.
I do not speak much. Words are wind, and we have miles yet to cover. I carry no crown, no title that rings in halls, only the trust of those who follow me across dust and distance. I watch. I listen. I decide where we rest, and when we move again. There's a green valley in my dreams, always ahead, always just beyond the next ridge. Until we find it, I carry the weight — and the silence.
What I'm Into: distant ridges, campfires at dusk, the trust of the weary, maps drawn in sand, a hearth that stays
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