Sinric the Wanderer (
thewidewideworld) wrote2016-09-04 09:36 pm
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{Continued from here}
Sinric heads down the stairs and out into the gardens, a wrap pulled around his shoulders and his hair still damp. He breathes in the scent of approaching evening as if committing it to memory before turning towards the lake.
He has no idea which way Athelstan might have gone but the lake always seems like a good place to start.
Sinric heads down the stairs and out into the gardens, a wrap pulled around his shoulders and his hair still damp. He breathes in the scent of approaching evening as if committing it to memory before turning towards the lake.
He has no idea which way Athelstan might have gone but the lake always seems like a good place to start.
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"She was still a wild animal", he agrees, "gentle nature or not."
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"One more sign of his reasonable thinking."
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Athelstan glances at him, then looks at the book.
"So, these stories..."
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He runs his hands over the pages, opening it to his favourite story. "I learnt this as a song when I was quite young. It is one of my favourite songs still. The hunter prince who falls in love with simple maid and peruse her, much against her will."
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"I remember other stories like that. Usually God - or a god - intervenes in some way to make the maid safe."
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"What became of her in this tale?"
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He reaches for the book and begins to read in silence.
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Athelstan glances up when he notices Sinric has moved, and follows.
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Then that may be what happens, as he curls up on the couch.
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He shrugs slightly, shifting his legs as they suddenly begin complaining.
"I'm not really hungry."
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"You can come back. Not with the food, of course, but after."
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"It's fine", Athelstan assures him.
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Athelstan notices, and nods quietly.
"I'll be here."
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He returns an hour or two later, fed and fresh from a shower, his hair bound up in a loose braid.
He takes up his tablet and gestures to the couch, waiting for Athelstan's permission to sit.
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