He called it his Morning Start. He'd start an hour before dawn and sprint until he reached this cliff at the edge of the village, just to stand there and watch the sun rise. It wasn't something he could explain, or give reason to, it was just something he did that pleased him. A ritual, a thing he did just for fun. Even on rainy days he'd do the same thing and play on that cliff like a child. Rolling and laughing, and laughing and rolling. He'd come home covered in mud and make a mess of everything, but you knew he was happy.
That boy was happy, and that was all that mattered.
