.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
04-06-2017, 11:31 AM
|
R I K Y N & D U I R
The stranger that arrives alongside us is dark in color, and seems familiar, in the same way that so many of them do, around here. Maybe I’d glimpsed her in some gathering, or spectacle, but I don’t dwell long on it; she is merely a yearling, after all, and, glancing briefly at her in a side long, cold way, I wonder why it is Helovians are all so friendly. Duir, less nervous about the filly than he is the grown horses, nervously drops behind some paces upon the realization he’s being gawped at, to watch the ongoing greeting from a safe distance. Predator, he warns me, because only wolves and hawk stare at something so intently; the notion of the girl being a threat at all earns a mental scoff from my behalf. A child, I remark, instead, drawing to mind images of himself, as a fawn, eagerly examining flowers, or Remy’s soft ears. "Hello, Gyda," I answer, "I am Rikyn, and the coward back there is Duir." And no, I do not want your company, I hold within, not wanting her girlish tears, or angry mother, either. Instead, I lie. It’s the least I can do. Duir, meanwhile, looks most offended, and hurriedly returns to my side, with a proud (and embarrassed) expression. "We were just returning north," I tell her, because, well, fuck going to the Rotunda, as planned. I can’t deal with that yet. Who’s coward now? retorts my companion, from alongside me, my ears tilting backward, bent by withheld aggression. "Company would not be so bad." Easing my pace to allow her to keep up more easily, remembering how my mother had simply surged ahead, without care for my smaller limbs, and inquisitive eyes. Though, currently, Duir and I seem to be the focus of the youth’s attention, there is no telling what may catch her eye (and slow her up) along the way. It’s not like it matters, if she holds me up – I don’t have anywhere better to be, after all, and a small voice is a good distraction from the big ones inside my head. "Do you live nearby?" I inquire, both a means to keep the conversation going (subsequently, my ghosts at bay), and to ensure she’s not some vagrant child with a horribly worried, overprotective mother out there somewhere (liable to punch the shit out of me for being nice to her kid). I guess I could just ask if she’s actually allowed out here, but, I’m the cool uncle sort of guy, not the mother hen everyone wants to find their kid out alone in the woods. Besides, the kid is at least a year old, and I'd been out on my own, in the wild lands outside the safety of Helovia, at that age. this is not destruction this is your birth — |
@Gyda
