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07-13-2015, 11:36 AM
"Lochan will grow strong." I say the words as if they are a personal promise from me to the pair. "Is pairing between species common in this land?" I eye the two before me. Is it not a bother to have such a dependency on another? Or to have another depend on you in such a way?
"Much like myself," I mutter his words to myself. Who does he see me as? Am I a traveler? I had acted upon the words of another. I had not been led here by the mischievous sprite that whispers sweet words of wanderlust into the ears of a vagabond. But if afforded the time, would I have been one to wander?
His father had passed on. The words are harsh to my ears but my face barely changes. Only my eyes change from their wandering to jerk to Ashamin.
I wonder what it was like for him. Not the stallion before me, but his father? "I am sorry for your loss and I am sure that he would be proud." The words fall easily from my tongue. Absent minded, like a reflex. It isn't that I don't mean them. Sincerity is there. But is it really Ashamin who lost? What of his father?
I pause to get a good taste of my words before passing them onto another. Words live longer than their masters; therefore they should be few and well said. "You have come far and been through much. But remember, sorrow is the threshold that all wisdom must cross. The wise ones must mourn. They must lay eye upon the Tree of Life's fruitful season and must watch it slip into the barren seasons. The Tree of Knowledge is not the Tree of Life. Knowledge and Life are borne from two completely different seeds." I snort into the frigid air and watch as my breath dodges the abundant falling snow and soars towards the heavens. My words are haphazardly placed together but they are my apology for not being more sentimental towards the loss of his father.
I am not one of words. What I have just said was exhausting to piece together. I squint at this Haruspex and wonder if my words even made sense to his ears. And while I outwardly cast my scrutiny it is solely directed towards myself.
I had slipped with my words. Too straightforward and I am found out, too discreet and others wish to dilly dally my time away. A tight smile grows crookedly. This boy is proving to be sharp.
"A season. A few seasons. A year or two if I charm fate. It is all the time I have. I saw the look in your eye. It is fruitless to hide what has already been found," "But, wise one, I ask of you to not voice what you know to any other."
"Much like myself," I mutter his words to myself. Who does he see me as? Am I a traveler? I had acted upon the words of another. I had not been led here by the mischievous sprite that whispers sweet words of wanderlust into the ears of a vagabond. But if afforded the time, would I have been one to wander?
His father had passed on. The words are harsh to my ears but my face barely changes. Only my eyes change from their wandering to jerk to Ashamin.
I wonder what it was like for him. Not the stallion before me, but his father? "I am sorry for your loss and I am sure that he would be proud." The words fall easily from my tongue. Absent minded, like a reflex. It isn't that I don't mean them. Sincerity is there. But is it really Ashamin who lost? What of his father?
I pause to get a good taste of my words before passing them onto another. Words live longer than their masters; therefore they should be few and well said. "You have come far and been through much. But remember, sorrow is the threshold that all wisdom must cross. The wise ones must mourn. They must lay eye upon the Tree of Life's fruitful season and must watch it slip into the barren seasons. The Tree of Knowledge is not the Tree of Life. Knowledge and Life are borne from two completely different seeds." I snort into the frigid air and watch as my breath dodges the abundant falling snow and soars towards the heavens. My words are haphazardly placed together but they are my apology for not being more sentimental towards the loss of his father.
I am not one of words. What I have just said was exhausting to piece together. I squint at this Haruspex and wonder if my words even made sense to his ears. And while I outwardly cast my scrutiny it is solely directed towards myself.
I had slipped with my words. Too straightforward and I am found out, too discreet and others wish to dilly dally my time away. A tight smile grows crookedly. This boy is proving to be sharp.
"A season. A few seasons. A year or two if I charm fate. It is all the time I have. I saw the look in your eye. It is fruitless to hide what has already been found," "But, wise one, I ask of you to not voice what you know to any other."
@[Ashamin] I am -so- sorry for the wait. I started a new series and it sucked me away.
