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10-23-2016, 05:40 PM
Tembovu & Mbwene
His distracted mind was drawn to his present surroundings when Aysanne addressed him directly; searching and distant navy eyes snapping to her verdant eyes in time to catch her small smile, and he returned it with a tight-lipped, tiny smile of his own. But it faded the moment she began to speak, telling him of a thief she had intercepted, referencing a leaf-marking on his forehead. Alysanne was right in assuming his knowledge of dendrology was lacking, as expressed by his blank look at her calling it a ‘red oak’ leaf. But then, upon her further explanation, realization snapped into place and his navy gaze sharpened and narrowed slightly. He knew of a unicorn who matched her description: Thranduil. His thick lips pursed, great head nodding slightly, “Thank you for telling me, Alysanne.”
But then his deep voice, still carrying despite being a murmur, hushed as the storyteller began to weaver her tales. His ears remained perked, listening intently. But his mind floated in and out of reliving her narration, the information Aly had just given him, and the fact that Rexanna was to give him an answer this evening.
That is not to say that the Songbird’s sung tales weren’t entertaining or informative. In fact, just the opposite: they enlightened the King on many matters of which he was ignorant. And thus he was glad he stayed to hear them, rather than rush off to find his lover. As was Mbwene, though the soft-looking mare had begrudged her the welcome of actually feeling her peculiar skin. The small elephant had tottered back towards @Glasgow curling at the Glazier’s feet and raptly listening to Lena.
But, after the Songbird had finished her first (if there were more) saga, the King dipped his head, “Thank you, Lena. Your tale gave life to the past.” His low rumble ended and he began to slip away, seeking answers and his lover. Though Mbwene stayed, tooting to affirm that she, too, though the story was wonderful and that she was staying to hear more, if there was any.
But then his deep voice, still carrying despite being a murmur, hushed as the storyteller began to weaver her tales. His ears remained perked, listening intently. But his mind floated in and out of reliving her narration, the information Aly had just given him, and the fact that Rexanna was to give him an answer this evening.
That is not to say that the Songbird’s sung tales weren’t entertaining or informative. In fact, just the opposite: they enlightened the King on many matters of which he was ignorant. And thus he was glad he stayed to hear them, rather than rush off to find his lover. As was Mbwene, though the soft-looking mare had begrudged her the welcome of actually feeling her peculiar skin. The small elephant had tottered back towards @Glasgow curling at the Glazier’s feet and raptly listening to Lena.
But, after the Songbird had finished her first (if there were more) saga, the King dipped his head, “Thank you, Lena. Your tale gave life to the past.” His low rumble ended and he began to slip away, seeking answers and his lover. Though Mbwene stayed, tooting to affirm that she, too, though the story was wonderful and that she was staying to hear more, if there was any.
Please tag Tembovu.
