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07-17-2016, 07:47 PM
Why not? Rakt asked his bonded when Ashamin said, for the third time, that they could not spar together.
"Because," Ashamin said for the third time, but this time aloud, "it would wake your brother."
At which point both turned to look at the sleeping figure of Lochan, who had rested all day in a patch of thistle and shed bird's down, gathered by the red cerndyr during particularly impatient hours. The sun was setting, and perhaps the little eye would rise soon, but until he did the Clovenheart wanted to be sure that Lochan got all the sleep he needed. Living life as an outcast meant more travelling, and the nomadic lifestyle had taken a toll on the smaller companion. Rakt may have been impatient and gruff, but he would relent if that was what his brother needed, too.
When wakes? he asked, by way of his own sort of compromise.
"When he wakes," the Clovenheart replied, by way of his own sort of compromise.
But in the meantime, neither wished to wait idly. They moved through the thickets, each grazing on the tender grasses that Birdsong had fed and grown with care. The Thistle meadow was particularly verdant that season, and the Clovenheart was thankful for a steady source of food now that he was living in the wilds. And he had to admit, the meadow grasses were tastier than the sparse hay gathered and stored in the corners of his basin cave. Half had been reserved for food (split among the three of them, it had felt meager) and the other portion had been used up for fires to keep them warm. Out in the thistle meadow, though, even when the sunset they felt warmer. Perhaps it was that warmth that allowed Lochan to sleep so peacefully and quietly, warm in the bed of purple thistles.
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ASHAMIN
The Clovenheart
For you, @Chaska!
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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