03-07-2022, 02:50 PM
T U M U L T
He did not have much experience with others, having mostly kept to himself, and what little interaction he’s had wasn’t always positive—such as what transpired on the mountain. Beqanna is still new to him, or at least, it is in comparison to those that had been born here. He did not know every notch of history, and their mannerisms and way of conversing did not come easily to him yet. Names and lands meant virtually nothing to him, because he did not know where anything or who anyone was.
All this to say, whatever humor she had been aiming for missed its mark. He blinks his gray eyes at her, his facial expression still unreadable, mostly because he did not entirely understand what she was getting at. Clearly, there were other residents in this land—hundreds of them. But the forest was heavily wooded and not made for large gatherings, hence its attraction to those that desired solitude, or at least quiet. There were warnings whispered of wandering too deep, of a darkness that churned at the heart of it, which likely attributed to the reason he could walk for hours without coming across anyone else.
“Let me rephrase that,” he says, his tone even, almost flat. “I didn’t realize there was anyone in this direct vicinity.”
There is nothing in his expression to hint at what he thinks of her, though truthfully, it’s mostly indifference. She is, as near as he can tell, just like everyone else here. He does not know enough to recognize what would set her apart from the native residents; he has no way of knowing that she is nearly just as new to this place as he is.
She offers her name, and he gives a nod of his head. “Tumult,” he replies, and there is a shadow of a smile on his storm-laden lips, though it does nothing to lighten his eyes. “What brings you to the forest?” He asks, and it almost could have seemed like a question born of small talk, until he adds drily, “I’m assuming it’s your love of crowded places.”
All this to say, whatever humor she had been aiming for missed its mark. He blinks his gray eyes at her, his facial expression still unreadable, mostly because he did not entirely understand what she was getting at. Clearly, there were other residents in this land—hundreds of them. But the forest was heavily wooded and not made for large gatherings, hence its attraction to those that desired solitude, or at least quiet. There were warnings whispered of wandering too deep, of a darkness that churned at the heart of it, which likely attributed to the reason he could walk for hours without coming across anyone else.
“Let me rephrase that,” he says, his tone even, almost flat. “I didn’t realize there was anyone in this direct vicinity.”
There is nothing in his expression to hint at what he thinks of her, though truthfully, it’s mostly indifference. She is, as near as he can tell, just like everyone else here. He does not know enough to recognize what would set her apart from the native residents; he has no way of knowing that she is nearly just as new to this place as he is.
She offers her name, and he gives a nod of his head. “Tumult,” he replies, and there is a shadow of a smile on his storm-laden lips, though it does nothing to lighten his eyes. “What brings you to the forest?” He asks, and it almost could have seemed like a question born of small talk, until he adds drily, “I’m assuming it’s your love of crowded places.”
CAN YOU TELL ME, WILL I BREAK OR WILL I BEND?
@ rezza