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I found that Onni was a rather strange individual. Do not be mistaken, for I was not insulting her in any way. All the females I had ever met were incredibly vain, vying for attention and flattery that I was unwilling to give. I was an awkward man when it came to emotions, especially those that had to be faked like flattery. I was very honest with my heart, and I could not force myself to compliment a woman who did not deserve it. And yet, I was perplexed by Onni’s seeming inability to accept the praise I bestowed upon her. I had thought over this at least three times since she had silently declined, and wondered why it returned so often to my brain. Was I doing something wrong? I was out of practice yet, but I had said it with honesty. I was rather helpless with social conventions, and just resignedly chalked it up to my own awkward fumbling. I had likely done something wrong, though I assumed Onni was humble and not used to being observed or praised in such a way. How odd, though I chided myself for comparing her to my ex family members. Onni was not like them, thank the heavens. We are both enveloped in a bubble of quiet, the laughter of the brook and the sweet songs of the birds in the distance all that remained among our soft breaths. It is comforting that someone, out of everyone in the world of Helovia, understands my silences.
Her face glows like the sun she idolizes when she smiles, and I find myself returning it. Even Lyhty seems to cheer at my words, and I hope I can keep this up. It is far better to laugh and joke with her than talk of more serious matters, not that I am incapable of contemplating such things. ”Of course not, Miss, but you can always surprise me,” I chuckle, enjoying the light-hearted banter that she allowed me to engage her in. Her soft breath does not escape my notice and I hope that she realizes that I am merely interested in the fact she is not gloating. Slowly I shrug my shoulders and smile sheepishly to show her that no, I am not bothered by the fact she is the heir to the throne of the Dragon’s Throat, in a way. Her eyes do not find me, and when I touch her she lurches away. Suddenly uncomfortable I step back once, giving her space. Apology written out in silence on my face. Lyhty vocalized unhappiness and I awkwardly gazed down at the soft grass that grows on the banks we stand on. She thanks me and I hum softly in my throat, unwilling to make myself seem even more foolish. I don’t understand why I’m so jittery and eager to make her smile, and I wish to leave many times. After all I am doing a rather terrible job of making friends with her, and my experiences are not aiding me in this confrontation.
I stand like an awkward mountain before her, wondering why I have to be so obvious and unable to melt into the background. I curse my genes for giving me white-blonde looks and bright eyes, for I am far from outgoing. Why could I not have been born under swathes of plain brown? Plain. I like plain, for that is the closest word I can fit myself into. Yanking myself out of my depressing thoughts, I focus again on the tobiano princess. It’s weird to call her that since it’s, for once, true. However she is speaking and I have to wrangle my floating mind under control so that I can actually focus on her words. I manage a brief, flickering smile, for my thoughts are everywhere. ”I would not know, Miss Onni, I have never met the Gods before. However I will trust your words, as you seem to know him best,” I rumble, and my smile comes out a bit more sincere this time around. I roll my shoulders, for they are reminding me that I am not moving. Work is my life, and my life is work. Maybe I’ve been cursed, born this way, and I allow a deep sigh to rumble from my lips. Why am I dwelling on such things? So I perk up a bit, though I don’t particularly like that word. I wish to fly, but know that conversation may be a bit more difficult in the skies, and I am unwilling to break away from Onni so soon.
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