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01-12-2017, 08:41 PM
Tarek
the desolate
the desolate
He felt an impatience in his mind and body – he was too eager to put as much distance behind him from Uumulah as he could, wanting nothing more than to ensure they wouldn’t be found. He was not truly aware that he and the beautiful Ghalia had come to another place, even though there were so many different scents here, and not just of living equine beings. Tarek jumped a little at a sound, but he looked behind him as he heard words huffed out by she, and he unwillingly drew to a halt.
And tilted his head to give her an impatient look.
“Insha’allah, min fadlak,” he says under his breath, tilting his head before he switches tongue, “What is it?” He inquires, his rich voice with a light but true accent of his homeland, as he turns about to look at her.
He watched and knew though, she was revelling in the open air. Tarek found himself unable to turn his eyes away as his sister danced before his mind’s eye and he felt himself sinking down into the memory of her; her delicate beauty, her wonderful way of speaking, she had been so lovely. He appears to steel himself mentally against that – and then he continued to wait while he forced himself not to think on what he could not change.
It was useless.
When Ghalia came towards him, he nodded gently. He understood, this must be so perfect for her, to be at liberty after so long imprisoned.
He didn’t speak though. He merely walked, and they walked together until Tarek found himself at a place where there was a fork in the paths, a large tree standing tall and strong before them.
“Which path do we take,” he says to both himself and her, as he peers around at her with his amber eyes.
Which would lead them further away from everything behind them, and all the danger it carried with it… he didn’t know. He gave a little smile to her, more to reassure her that they would be far enough off, but it did not break his cold exterior as he turns his attention back around.
“Where is this place,” he murmurs to the world, wondering to himself more than to her. This was nothing like their home.
And Tarek felt lost.
And tilted his head to give her an impatient look.
“Insha’allah, min fadlak,” he says under his breath, tilting his head before he switches tongue, “What is it?” He inquires, his rich voice with a light but true accent of his homeland, as he turns about to look at her.
He watched and knew though, she was revelling in the open air. Tarek found himself unable to turn his eyes away as his sister danced before his mind’s eye and he felt himself sinking down into the memory of her; her delicate beauty, her wonderful way of speaking, she had been so lovely. He appears to steel himself mentally against that – and then he continued to wait while he forced himself not to think on what he could not change.
It was useless.
When Ghalia came towards him, he nodded gently. He understood, this must be so perfect for her, to be at liberty after so long imprisoned.
He didn’t speak though. He merely walked, and they walked together until Tarek found himself at a place where there was a fork in the paths, a large tree standing tall and strong before them.
“Which path do we take,” he says to both himself and her, as he peers around at her with his amber eyes.
Which would lead them further away from everything behind them, and all the danger it carried with it… he didn’t know. He gave a little smile to her, more to reassure her that they would be far enough off, but it did not break his cold exterior as he turns his attention back around.
“Where is this place,” he murmurs to the world, wondering to himself more than to her. This was nothing like their home.
And Tarek felt lost.
@Ghalia and any!
