How can you see without looking?
Description: Large hues of emerald glare intensely from their sockets, observing hungrily and passionately at every curve of this world while two long ears protrude aloofly from his short, yet unkempt and messy auburn hair, twitching every so often with each new sound. Locks of his hair stay close to his pale skin and become a near constant obstruction to his gaze, yet without much hindrence to his person. Each step he takes, he takes it with confidence as if he owns the very land. However, his lithe, muscled body seems more suited to tackling waves rather than life on land.
Personality: It is hard to pinpoint a 'certain' demeanor from this man, his actions change with the circumstance like a wave splitting against a rock, it could go whichever way. There is no effort in the way his personality shifts, sometimes he is a child who marvels at every blade of grass or gets sad for a squashed bug- but sometimes he's cold, uncaring.
Background: While the waves touched the shore ever gently in lands distant enough to be pushed behind the conscious mind, a young elven child sat between pebbles and sand. His small feet splashed the waves back gleefully with each kick, and curious, but gentle hues of green watched with merriment and mirth. Much like a great majority of Glaenir's Childhood, the shore was empty save for his parents. He was always a bit too easy to trick, so easy to trust, and rather naive compared the the devilish local kids. It was no wonder his parents were a bit too doting on their only son- Even if they knew it was all childish antics in the end and kids would be kids. What they didn't know for sure was that how long kids would be able to stay kids. Too absorbed in their thoughts, young Glaenir in the meantime had already seen a colorful fish and leaped after it to get a closer look at those precious scales. Between all the screaming and yelling of his rather too doting parents, Glaenir had his first interaction with the sea, and what Aereth hid inside of it.
Years passed, and the sea only grew harsher, the weather bolder, the sun dimmer. Glaenir grew, so did his surroundings. Talk of a voyage seldom touched his ears, and despite knowing the fears and worries of others, he tried to endure, to keep an aloof smile for the sake of his parents, still carefully doting on him, careful not to worry him, determined to protect him. And for that reason he played naive, pretending that nothing beyond the sea has value enough for his interest.
When the time of crossing arrived Glaenir was but 16, still very young, still very naive. The shaking of the boat, the ripple of the sail, smell of salt and sea- Just taking it all in for the very first time was exhilirating for the young Elf, but only for a while. Soon enough, the sea raged with thunders and hurricanes, with destructive lightnings smashing the ocean like hammers beating anvils, he could do naught but cower between loving, yet shaking arms. Those emerald hues opened every once in a while, unable to hide the fear and awe behind them as he gazed the mountainous waves and colossal clouds hovering above, curiousity unyielding to his fear.
Until one day he felt the hands clutching him release abruptly, taken by the waves, swiftly and mercilessly with an unforgiving agenda. That day young Glaenir went into a slumber, not in body, but in mind. His wails had torn his throat, and his weeping had left him tearless. His heart quietly shut off from others, and his gaze set intently on the rushing waters underneath the boat. Cold nights went by without anyone to warm him in an embrace, even longer days went by in a daze, beaten by the horrible wind. After what seemed to be a long time, but also very short, he recognized a voice was speaking. Hushed, as if soothing. Coarse, as if old and tired. At first he didn't listen, but after a few days he realized a hand was in his field of vision, pointing at a passing bird, or more likely a fish depending on where Glaenir stared. After a while more, Glaenir recognized that the voice was speaking names of things, of creatures and beasts, of the Gods and the stars. He listened, each day with more interest and attention, until he found himself looking at an elderly man. His long ears had feathered with age, and gray locks drooped from underneath his hat. His lips were curled in a youthful smile while. Later, Glaenir learned this elder had lost his own son, around the same time Glaenir lost his family. While the memory nearly put him back to sleep, the soothing words had captured his heart, and wouldn't let his mind wander.
By the time they arrived the new lands, Glaenir had made a full recovery. And the last thing he saw before he departed the boat was a passing fish, rising lightly to nip at his index dipped in the water. Same fish that made him jump in the water years prior- bright golden scales, reflecting a different sun, to a different Glaenir. This fish and its golden scales would be the catalyst of his ambition, and if life under the water was as beautiful as this fish, he'd like to see what other creatures call this unforgiving, cruel stretch of blue their home.