New Denzien
Offline.
30 posts made.
2 likes.
Farid
|
Post by Farid on Sept 5, 2017 2:41:56 GMT
They came to a stop and Farid let out a soft exhalation. He didn't open his eyes, but the pain subsided when they stopped moving. He licked his lips, tasting the copper of blood, but taking no exception to it. He heard the child's side of the conversation and cracked open his eyes in time to see him run off, then promptly closed them again as they began moving. Then they stopped again and this time Carjen's voice called him out of his silent suffering. He nodded, a quick jerk of motion. Carefully (and fairly gracelessly) he managed to slide off the tall horse's back. He staggered when his feet touched the cobbled ground. He crouched to steady himself, one hand pressed against the cobbles while the other held his side. Only when the vertigo and weakness had mostly passed did he open his eyes and straighten.
From experience, he was surprisingly not worried about his injury. He had lost blood, that was certain, but he had lost blood before. A little food and water and rest would help to put it right. He turned to Carjen, grim but determined, still watching him from the corners of his eyes rather than looking at him straight on. He nodded again, this time somewhat more normally.
He couldn't find the words to speak at the moment, not when silence would do. Having never seen anything really like this he took no notice of the overgrown fields and empty houses, the less than perfect staffing. Perhaps later he would look and question but for now his wants were simple and his mind narrowed with pain and fatigue. Right now there were only two pressing concerns- if he was going to get the rest he so greatly desires, and what he would be asked to do to get it. Nothing came without cost. For all his speech of paying him back after he'd recovered, Farid couldn't quite wrap his mind around the concept.
|
|
Nobleman/Leatherworker
Heteroflexible.
Single.
Werebeast
Authored by The X-Ray Dog.
Offline.
|
Post by Carjen Brando on Sept 5, 2017 21:10:12 GMT
Carjen watched but kept his distance from the boy this time, only really intending to catch him if he fell from the horse. But the hyena reached the ground fairly unceremoniously so the panther merely waited patiently for him to get his bearings before leading the way into the large manor house. Though large for a house it was small for a castle, with eleven bedrooms and only a few bathrooms. The grand doors opened up to a small foyer, which in turn opened up to a long larger room- the great hall. Though called the Great Hall, like most things about the castle, it was small and quaint, all stone with an ornate rug in the center and a long table at the end designed to sit six people judging by the number of chairs. No one was sitting there now. To the left, the sound of kitchen staff chattering carried over the stones and the smell of roast pheasants and lamb wafted down the hall, pots clanged and fires crackled as footsteps bustled around. But Carjen went right instead, down a long hall lined with heavy wooden doors.
He picked the door at the end, careful to keep his pace slow so that the injured hyena could keep up with his long strides, and opened it, revealing a spacious bedchamber. The room was dark, the sun was setting now and it cast long, heavy shadows across the room where the red light couldn’t properly streak through the tall stilted windows. Most of the room was taken up by a large bed, already prepared with furs and a blanket and sheets over a plush mattress of some kind. It sat under a posted canopy, though nothing hung from the wooden frame, no silk curtains or anything of that nature. Carjen was garbage at interior decorating and hadn’t gotten around to it. As such, the room lacked in small homey items and knick-knacks, there was a potted plant in a corner and a few rugs on the floor of varying sizes but little else colored the room with anything other than harsh stone and dark wood.
As he entered, Carjen paused by the door, holding it open so that the boy could come through, inviting him in with just a tilt of his head. He left it open behind them. When he had been a slave, young and naïve and knew nothing of the horrors one could see as such, an open door was a comfort to him. Closed doors trapped him, made the room private so sinister things could be done. Though Carjen didn’t care, he really didn’t, he was mindful of the boy and his feelings about being in a strange new place with a strange new master. An open door gave him the freedom to run if he grew uncomfortable, the jaguar would not chase after him.
Crossing the room, Carjen stooped in front of the hearth, lifting from wood from a pile nearby and making a neat little crossing of it before attempting to light it with some flint and steel he’d picked up from a table in the hallway. It took a few tries, and he cursed as the striking motion caused him to bang his knuckles against the stone but after a moment or two, there was the glow of embers, which he blew on for a while and fanned with his hand until a little fire had started. This whole process kept his back to the boy, who was free to do as he wanted while the jaguar’s attention was elsewhere. The door was open, he could just leave if he wanted. But the bed was also soft and inviting.
|
|
New Denzien
Offline.
30 posts made.
2 likes.
Farid
|
Post by Farid on Sept 11, 2017 15:08:06 GMT
The house is easily the largest building he has ever seen, much less been in. He is just alert enough to notice the bustle of people and to be grateful that they avoid them. He follows on the panther's heels, just out of arm's reach behind and to one side. His eyes flick occasionally to the furniture and doors as they pass, seeing potential hiding places and bolt holes that would be hard for others to reach. There aren't many in the parts of the house he sees and his mind isn't quite working fast enough for the glimpses he gets into other rooms.
When they arrived at the room at the end of the hall, Farid stopped just inside the door. He wasn't really sure what to do. This room was certainly not meant for him. It was... rich. Despite the pain and fogginess in his head, he was acutely aware of how downright dirty he was in a way that he'd rarely been aware of before. He was afraid to touch anything but he was also tired. So tired. A sideways glance at Carjen showed that he was busy with the fire so on cat-quiet steps the hyena shifter slipped across the room, slow and careful, though not graceful. Not right now.
He dropped down to all fours and slipped under the bed, into the deepest shadows, curling up tucked into the corner with a soft sigh of relief. There was a comforting solidity to the stone floor beneath him and the heavy wood that surrounded and covered him. Even is the fire began to flare to life, the young werebeast heaved a heavy sigh and closed his eyes.
[If you want, we can end this here and move onto some of the other threads we talked about?]
|
|
Nobleman/Leatherworker
Heteroflexible.
Single.
Werebeast
Authored by The X-Ray Dog.
Offline.
|
Post by Carjen Brando on Sept 12, 2017 22:16:30 GMT
Carjen turned to look over his shoulder at the gentle shuffling sound of bare feet against stone. It was soft and barely audible but in the quiet room and with his enhanced senses, it was noticeable even over the crackle of the fire. He turned just in time to watch those bare feet disappear beneath the bed and scowled. A mattress covered in furs and the boy chooses to wedge himself between stone and hardwood? He might have questioned it seriously had it not been for his own time as a slave. He grew into a handsome man more suitable for people’s beds than dungeons and cells but he remembered the first time he was introduced to an expensive mattress, he too had been frightened. It was so foreign, all of it- the room, the people, the feel of plush softness instead of metal chains and harsh stone. He’d felt like he’d sink right through it to the floor, like he was floating or flying miles in the air, supported only by some weird magic, it definitely felt wrong to him so, without judging, he turned back to the fire and said nothing, instead poking at the slowly smoldering wood flakes and sticks with the firepoker kept handy on the mantle.
He should’ve coaxed the boy out, he’d thought at the time and then later in his study where he had retired for some peace and quiet. They needed to bind his wound more efficiently. Dynrir was not a doctor, or even close to a doctor, he was the head of the farming activities that went on in the keep, a horse shifter who could turn into a big draft animal that could pull plows and roll logs like no one had ever seen. He was a warrior, a former bodyguard and probably knew the most about getting hurt and not dying from it, which is why Carjen had called him to the guest room. But by the time the horse had shown up, the boy had been under the bed for more than twenty minutes. If he was not asleep he should’ve been, Carjen had rescheduled the bandage change for the morning. It’d do them both good to rest and Dynrir was a big eater, he would’ve resented having to miss dinner to tend to a little weakling boy. The man had a good heart but you had to get through his stomach to get to it.
Resting his elbows on the table, Carjen sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He wanted to sort it all out- clean and bind the wound, put the boy where he belonged in that damn bed, and figure out just what he was going to do with him. But the sun had set, dinner was on the tables downstairs and he was tired, hot and crabby. Instead of going downstairs to partake in the feast he made sure was prepared every night, he sighed heavily and trudged to his bedroom, carelessly shedding his armor as he went. He locked his door behind him, checked the windows and the fireplace in his usual pre-bed ritual before sinking into the furs and the sheets and falling asleep himself.
((Sure we can call that a thread. I’ll go and start the next one if you have no objections. :3))
|
|