04-02-2016, 08:47 AM
Patchouli
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi
Why? Why, why, why? Him of all horses that his King had at his command, was it Patchouli that was summoned to go to the Valley. His laidback expression exchanged for one of stoic strain as the words left Brynmor’s mouth. He was joking right? Patchouli wished he was. You know who was last staying in the Valley? That would be a pale woman named Padma, or as Patch so fondly refers to her, Mother.
Needless to say they didn’t get along, they never had. Sure Patch usually managed to remain silent in her presence, either scared or lacking the gumption to waste of fighting back, but it was the most awkward way to spend the day. Tongue clenched tight in your check, brow aching from the many times you wince during a single conversation with the vile woman.
He followed Brynmor anyway, he had signed up for the peace caste after all, he had made his own bed in this matter. Best to lie in it chum.
Alliances, he nods listening calmly to the other explain the nature of their journey. He had figured as much, why else the never ending trek? The Kingdom that was the furthest from his new home was their first destination, oh how he longed to see the clover of Heaven’s Gates! (oh how much he would have regretted that trip!) Instead he halts at the edges of the dark kingdom, the Valley.A place where just the scenery was enough to set your hairs on end, it was not the most comforting place but he did his best to remain calm. Even if that meant his brown eyes shifted at each shadow or imagined movement within them.
When she melts from the cover of her Kingdom, Patchouli tosses his head, taking a step back as his eyes adjust to the mousey color of her skin. She’s so young,,. he thinks while the thought catches, snared by words that flood his mind, turning his nostrils to wide circles aT the tip of his blackened nose.
“Oh, hey there your majesty. What’s – what’s happenin?” He stumbles awkwardly over the sounds his laid back tone taking an edge of uncertainty, still trying to register the mental words that found their way into his brain.
it is better to conquer yourself, than to win a thousand battles
heh heh the most diplomatiest of diplomats