He came back home half dead. The harsh reality of living the stilts as a red, fighting the wars started by the silver cold blooded counterparts who enjoyed and consumed themselves in revelry and wine. While the reds fought their wars. Barely made out alive. Yet here Maven was, with a barely beating heart, face hollowed by the wreckage of war—no legs. And a metallic clicker of a heart.

A small house and a picket fence, with the amount of tetrachs Evangeline Canthos earns from being the seamstress for the cold blooded silvers. She earns good money one might say. A humble house, while maven stayed at home grumbling and wheezing with his barely beating heart and half of himself when he went to war.

His little joys of life included his wife, his two daughters and a son who had been conscripted off to war. But his irritability always remained,

his youngest Olewyn, sewed a rich fabric in the counter apprentice of her mother Evangeline as he glared at the intricate work from his wheelchair. Evangeline came home in a rush, her skirts dampened by the rain. He gave a quick smile to his wife and continued to watch his daughter work.

"Tia's out." he grumbled. "Stealing, I presume."