PIPPIGRIN
FALLEN OUT OF BED FROM A LONG & WEARY DREAM
A half-sized head, tearful and heavy, pressed firmly into the chest of his friend and brother. Reichenbach didn't mean it, he just wanted to spar! See, there was an explanation, just as he thought. Pushing his teary eyes further into the sweaty skin of the much tealler warrion, Pippin failed numberous times to hold back the quaking sobs errupting from his chest, and frankly, he wasn't even sure why he was crying. Perhaps it was simply joy that his friend hadn't truly intented to attack him, or perhaps it was a whole mixture of overwhelmed and heightened emotion.
Turning his head once more against the muscular breast of the goliath, Pippigrin opened his eyes to behold the beautiful dawn that they had fought under once again. The breathtaking ocean view was something that only caused his tears to fall more and more, his ears flopping against his neck as he continued to bury his head into his brother's chest. The hobbit spoke no words, for he could think of nothing to say. Perhaps he could apologise for assuming the man was capable of assaulting him for the heck of it, when come to think of it, Pippin didn't think Reichenbach was capable of such a heinous thing. King hitting a friend? Never. A seasoned warrior was he, but certainly not a cut throat.
The pain, still radiating from his many wounds, began to overwhelm the hobbit once more. The water of the sea below called to him, his mind drifting to the salt water's vicious sting but their miraculous helaing properties.
Without another peep the tiny stag began his descent to the north shore, wings dragging and head hung low. Frightened to enter the water, fearful of it's vicious sting, Pippigrin looked to the bay man who had caused his injuries. He'd only go in if he went with him.
Set after their fight on the north shore of the throat!
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