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 He hesitated. Not when he first began talking, but afterwards, he didn't seem to be able to hold her gaze, he allowed his usually strong voice to drift off, and he didn't pick it up again. The WeyrLeader noticed these subtle differences immediately, and it caused a small, barely discernible frown to crease the folds between her brows. What could be troubling her valiant warrior? His family had been returned to the World's Edge, he had proven his loyalty to her time and again. Swiftly her façade smoothed over, and the mare allowed an edge of concern to mar her visage, as she took another step closer to the painted steed, wishing a nurse or healer would come tend to his wounds before they were exposed to the elements for too long. "What is it, Aaron?" Her voice was gentle, but direct, caring, but firm. She would not accept this hesitant, different behaviour from one she trusted. She wondered what she had done to earn his mistrust, to earn this hesitancy. Had she not always been approachable? Trustworthy? Kind? Accepting? Why did he balk at her now, why did he stand before her, lost in insecurities and unable to meet the eye of the mare he willingly called his leader? A deep breath was exhaled, a sigh passed through her lips, as Akaith settled quietly upon her withers, chirruping a curious sound to press the questioning air of the situation further. What was happening here? larfsalot.deviantart.com |
