.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
08-11-2014, 03:47 AM
|
For the time being, it appears as if he’s agreeable enough to your little game. While you remain cautious, you’re gradually relaxing, enjoying the satisfaction that has crept, catlike, into your chest at his compliance. But your curiosity will not be completely appeased—not yet. You trust that that feeling will come when he’s performed to your liking. The only unfortunate part is, there’s no guarantee of that. As you suspected, he’s from nowhere that you’re familiar with. While the stag does certainly seem to enjoy talking about his homeland, you bite back your annoyance. You don’t really care where he’s from unless it tells you something about him. You’re after his essence, his being, the interesting bits, not his hometown. But it’s your own fault, you suppose. You should have been more specific, and now you are paying for it. And all too soon, it is Rostislav’s turn to ask a question of his own in your version of civilized prying. Like a dog with a bone, he returns to his last question, but he won’t make the same mistake that you just have. He leaves you no room to be vague this time, for he wants names and places—that much his phrasing makes clear. While he promises that he does not mean harm with his inquisitions, your ears tilt back defensively. They are not flat, merely a hint of your displeasure, but it is a sign to him nonetheless. However, you got yourself into this game, and you’re not ready to stop playing yet. “A question’s a question, I suppose,” you sigh, indicating your reluctance. “As I said before, I have been many places, but I trust you’re after just the one—my birthplace, oui? I come from a part of the world known as Ailleurs. It is far away, and I have never returned.” You frown slightly, your tone making it apparent that you do not hold the same fondness for this place that he does for his precious Mother Russia. “Pardonnez-moi, monsieur, for I know you do not mean to offend with your curiosity. My question to you though, is of what value to you is my birthplace? A stranger’s origins are a mere trifle to most, yet you have asked me twice.” You tilt your head, awaiting his answer, for truly, you are mystified. @[Rostislav] |
Please tag Sheba in all posts!
