316 ADC, 22nd Day of the Eighth Moon, Bherna Gathering Hall
Axle sat in the gathering hall, alone with Magician. He slowly, meticulously wiped hot wyvern blood and shards of thick scale off of his glaive. Another day, another Deviljho. He was a tall man, by no means wide but there was muscle and tone underneath his armor. He wore his hair chin length, dark browns mixing with a few locks of dull gray. His eyes were glazed over slightly, like they always are outside of the hunt. Sunken, and dull. Around him was the inescapable din of hunters drinking, eating, and talking in between hunts. Axle himself had a large tankard the Guild Gals would periodically come and fill up with ale to be drained slowly as the hunter kept working. The insect on his shoulder would buzz periodically, and he'd give it a strip of brute wyvern meat caught on one of the corners of his weapon whenever he found one. Next to him was a small plate of cured meats, but it was currently untouched. He was a man who had given everything to the hunt.
"Hey, uh, are you Axle?" A young girl's voice pulled him from his stupor. He gave her a quick glance- she was wearing beginner's hunting gear, with a shield made of dull stone strapped to her arm and an equally dull looking blade on her back.
"Sorry, I don't carry." He turned back to his weapon. Magician meowed.
"So, are you or are you not Axle, the legendary hunter, leader of the Maw of the Tigrex?" She continued.
"Yea, I'm Axle. I don't know what you heard about the Maw, but that stopped before you were born, kid." Something about her set off bells in Axle's mind, memories cresting the horizon.
"Axle, my name is Aloise of Kaisser." She put a hand on his and pulled in close. Her eyes were clouded, not opaque but getting there, and her skin was almost copper in color. She smelled like his old home. He froze. "Axle, I'm your daughter."
With that, the floodgates were opened. Feelings that had been dulled by time and distance returned stronger than ever. Holding that woman in his arms, falling asleep to her gentle snoring, the smell of a fresh cooked meal, and she was a hunting partner like no other. But with the pleasure came pain. Yelling. Crying. An infant, eyes not even open, bawling at the noise. He remembered being there, outside of a locked door, confident in his choice.
But with the brute force of a man who'd slain dragons he choked it down. Caught it in his throat and swallowed it whole.
Still, she looked just like her mother.
"Hello… daughterrrr…"