Boredom had its way of driving Tasida to do crazy things. But this was a habit she only recently developed, now that she was not being heavily trained by her father. That is what she decided to blame when she stumbled into the tavern looking for a job. Something to keep herself busy. Something to give her an income. Something to keep her away from boredom. Away from crazy impulses.
It was dark inside, with the soft glow of lights on the walls. The tables were wooden, and not two seconds after she walked inside did the odor of age, mildew and regurgitated alcohol hit her. It wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty. There were enough drunks present to start problems, but none of them appeared at first glance to hold any weapons. That observation made Tas smile- she was always armed. It was the first lesson her father taught her.
After a few heads popped up to give her a quick once-over and decided she didn't appear all that threatening, Tasida nodded and forced a smile. She strode over and sat down at an empty table next to the wall. Before she had a chance to think another thought, a very large and noticeably drunken man approached her.
"He' ther' gor'jus." He slurred, spilling a drink in his hand all over her table. "Hows'about yous makin' yerself useful fer a lonl'y feller like mah-self?" Tasida blinked twice, not revealing any emotion besides obvious annoyance. He stared back, trying to smile in a seductive way, and took another uncoordinated swig of ale.
"You have obviously had too much to drink." Tasida stood up, before she did anything, she gave a questioning look at the bar tender behind the counter, who nodded back. She turned back to the drunken man, grabbing his arm. "Come on, it is time for us to go."
"Nah, nah I'm jus' fine." He tried to fight her hands. Tasida would have let go to not start anything, but in his drunken stupor, the man elbowed her firmly in the stomach- enough to knock a decent amount of wind out. She recovered quickly enough to grab his hand that was suddenly aiming right at her face and redirect it away. His elbow slammed against her cheekbone before she had a chance to duck away. The force knocked her against the wall. The man laughed brokenly and raised his fist to hit her again. Tasida had hit her head hard, and felt the stinging pain of dizziness and incomprehension.
Terrible First Impression
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Warren Caylim
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- Name: Warren Caylim
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Re: Terrible First Impression
Warren barely glanced up from the bottom of his ale mug when the young woman entered. It hardly registered that someone new had entered the tavern. The ale was only his second; he had never drank much, and didn't intend to now, even at the thought that it might make his pain and guilt go away. It wasn't the type of man he was.
He had killed people, other men, some of them merely boys with glorified ideas of battle. They had learned the hard way, though it was a lesson most of them had not survived. He had earned the nickname of 'Axeman' during those border skirmishes, both for his reticence to speak, his insistence on using only his axe and occasionally the two long knives at his belt, and the sheer ferocity he used when he fought. The men he had fought against were part of those who had managed to get past the main lines of the border and had killed his family. Warren had thought they'd be safe. His family had paid for that mistake.
The thud of something rebounding off the wall brought Warren out of his reverie. A fight had begun not far from him. He peered intently through a few people who had stood up to get out of the way in order to catch a glimpse of the participants. His eyes locked on the glazed green eyes of a woman ...
Green eyes glazed in death. He was staring at his wife. Green eyes. ... Green eyes? he thought. My wife doesn't have green eyes.
Standing quickly, Warren pulled himself out of the past and darted around the table. He slipped easily between two onlookers, and reached out with his left hand to grab the man's cocked right arm at the elbow before he could throw another punch. He stopped at the man's shoulder, closer than would be comfortable for most men if Warren wasn't a good three inches shorter than this one.
A smoldering look in his eye, Warren spoke in a quiet, deadly serious voice, somehow more disconcerting than if he had shouted. "I don't think she would like you to do that."
He made no further aggressive moves, just the simple act of stopping this man from punching a woman. Taking advantage of a woman who obviously did not want his attentions. It was something of a sore spot with Warren. However, Warren's stance was one of readiness, though his free right hand was kept obviously away from the knife and axe hung on his right hip.
He had killed people, other men, some of them merely boys with glorified ideas of battle. They had learned the hard way, though it was a lesson most of them had not survived. He had earned the nickname of 'Axeman' during those border skirmishes, both for his reticence to speak, his insistence on using only his axe and occasionally the two long knives at his belt, and the sheer ferocity he used when he fought. The men he had fought against were part of those who had managed to get past the main lines of the border and had killed his family. Warren had thought they'd be safe. His family had paid for that mistake.
The thud of something rebounding off the wall brought Warren out of his reverie. A fight had begun not far from him. He peered intently through a few people who had stood up to get out of the way in order to catch a glimpse of the participants. His eyes locked on the glazed green eyes of a woman ...
Green eyes glazed in death. He was staring at his wife. Green eyes. ... Green eyes? he thought. My wife doesn't have green eyes.
Standing quickly, Warren pulled himself out of the past and darted around the table. He slipped easily between two onlookers, and reached out with his left hand to grab the man's cocked right arm at the elbow before he could throw another punch. He stopped at the man's shoulder, closer than would be comfortable for most men if Warren wasn't a good three inches shorter than this one.
A smoldering look in his eye, Warren spoke in a quiet, deadly serious voice, somehow more disconcerting than if he had shouted. "I don't think she would like you to do that."
He made no further aggressive moves, just the simple act of stopping this man from punching a woman. Taking advantage of a woman who obviously did not want his attentions. It was something of a sore spot with Warren. However, Warren's stance was one of readiness, though his free right hand was kept obviously away from the knife and axe hung on his right hip.
Re: Terrible First Impression
Tasida had waited for the next blow to her face once she knew she was on the ground. But it never came. At some point, maybe when she heard his voice, she realized she was alright for now. Tas rolled off of her back and arose to her feet slowly so she wouldn't make herself dizzy again.
Instead of fighting the man back, like his careless mind wanted to, the drunk yanked his elbow out of his hand and turned away from the scene. He aimed to sit down again, but the bartender and another large man hauled him out of the tavern.
The slow and steady rise worked for the most part, but Tas was distracted with trying to figure out if she was bleeding. She patted her head, feeling the thick brown curls for dampness. There was none. On her face there was no blood, but there was a very tender spot on her cheekbone where the man had hit her. That, she could tell, was going to bruise.
"Thanks," She muttered to the man who helped her, trying to give him an appreciative smile. He was a dirty man, and some part of her wondered when he last washed himself. Her eyes revealed no thoughts, except a sliver of wonder when she caught sight of an axe handle. Thanking him was embarrassing, but her father's lessons hadn't completely deprived her of civility. She was not trained as much with basic fist fighting as she had been with weapons. Sure, she started off that way, but that was years ago.
Another sudden wave of dizziness washed over her and she instinctively grabbed the most sturdy thing that was closest to her, which just happened to be the man who came to her rescue. She gripped one hand on his arm and another flat on his chest, closing her eyes to regain her balance.
Instead of fighting the man back, like his careless mind wanted to, the drunk yanked his elbow out of his hand and turned away from the scene. He aimed to sit down again, but the bartender and another large man hauled him out of the tavern.
The slow and steady rise worked for the most part, but Tas was distracted with trying to figure out if she was bleeding. She patted her head, feeling the thick brown curls for dampness. There was none. On her face there was no blood, but there was a very tender spot on her cheekbone where the man had hit her. That, she could tell, was going to bruise.
"Thanks," She muttered to the man who helped her, trying to give him an appreciative smile. He was a dirty man, and some part of her wondered when he last washed himself. Her eyes revealed no thoughts, except a sliver of wonder when she caught sight of an axe handle. Thanking him was embarrassing, but her father's lessons hadn't completely deprived her of civility. She was not trained as much with basic fist fighting as she had been with weapons. Sure, she started off that way, but that was years ago.
Another sudden wave of dizziness washed over her and she instinctively grabbed the most sturdy thing that was closest to her, which just happened to be the man who came to her rescue. She gripped one hand on his arm and another flat on his chest, closing her eyes to regain her balance.
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Warren Caylim
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Re: Terrible First Impression
Warren stared after the man as he was carted away by the bartender and what was probably one of the owner's bar toughs. He was mildly surprised the drunk hadn't taken a swing at him, but it was probably for the better. He was tired enough after days of walking that he probably wouldn't have fared well in that fight anyways, had the drunk had it in him to press the matter.
And even if the drunk had beaten him, Warren wouldn't have cared much either way. Since the fateful day he had watched his wife's throat get cut, he couldn't stand idly by and watch a woman being taken advantage of, or generally hurt in any way. There, thinking it doesn't hurt as much anymore, he thought to himself. Or is it that I've just pushed it so far down that it seems like there's nothing there ...
His thoughts were interrupted by the woman's expression of appreciation. He could barely make out the words, but he knew them for what they were. Warren's first feeling was one of sheepishness and irritation at not having checked to make sure the woman was alright, followed by immediate concern as she all but fell into him.
He had glimpsed her eyes before she grabbed onto him, and she still had that slightly unfocused look he had seen on people who had taken a hit to the head. Even with a sturdy helmet on, eyes glazed like that when the flat of an axe bounced off their head.
"Let's get you sat down, Miss, 'fore you fall down." Putting actions to words, Warren began guiding her to the table she had been sitting at, only a few feet away, to help her sit.
And even if the drunk had beaten him, Warren wouldn't have cared much either way. Since the fateful day he had watched his wife's throat get cut, he couldn't stand idly by and watch a woman being taken advantage of, or generally hurt in any way. There, thinking it doesn't hurt as much anymore, he thought to himself. Or is it that I've just pushed it so far down that it seems like there's nothing there ...
His thoughts were interrupted by the woman's expression of appreciation. He could barely make out the words, but he knew them for what they were. Warren's first feeling was one of sheepishness and irritation at not having checked to make sure the woman was alright, followed by immediate concern as she all but fell into him.
He had glimpsed her eyes before she grabbed onto him, and she still had that slightly unfocused look he had seen on people who had taken a hit to the head. Even with a sturdy helmet on, eyes glazed like that when the flat of an axe bounced off their head.
"Let's get you sat down, Miss, 'fore you fall down." Putting actions to words, Warren began guiding her to the table she had been sitting at, only a few feet away, to help her sit.
Re: Terrible First Impression
Gripping his arms as if her life depended on it, Tasida gently lowered herself into the chair he led her to. When she was stable, Tas released his arms and gripped her own knees, squeezing her eyes closed again.
Focusing on herself, her injury, Tasida slowed her breathing to calm herself down. When her blood pressure lowered and she felt the adrenaline leave her, she blinked her eyes open. At first everything was blurry and uneven. Then slowly all of the images fell into place and the throbbing in the back of her head faded to a soft pulse.
When she felt good enough to move, Tasida turned her legs under the table properly.
"Thank you," She said again, her smile coming more naturally. Tas actually made a point to lock eyes with him, making sure that hers only expressed gratitude. "I'm not normally that easy to knock down. Caught me by surprise, he did." She nodded with her curl-filled head at the chair across from her, inviting him to sit down.
Focusing on herself, her injury, Tasida slowed her breathing to calm herself down. When her blood pressure lowered and she felt the adrenaline leave her, she blinked her eyes open. At first everything was blurry and uneven. Then slowly all of the images fell into place and the throbbing in the back of her head faded to a soft pulse.
When she felt good enough to move, Tasida turned her legs under the table properly.
"Thank you," She said again, her smile coming more naturally. Tas actually made a point to lock eyes with him, making sure that hers only expressed gratitude. "I'm not normally that easy to knock down. Caught me by surprise, he did." She nodded with her curl-filled head at the chair across from her, inviting him to sit down.
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Warren Caylim
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Re: Terrible First Impression
Warren stood over her as she closed her eyes. It looked like meditation he had seen some of the elves do during the border skirmishes. He waited, stepping back to give her some room while crossing his arms over his chest.
After a few long moments, she opened her eyes. Again he saw the striking green, and had to remind himself this wasn't his wife. His heart quickened ever so slightly, and he mentally kicked himself. Beautiful eyes though, he thought.
Warren offered an encouraging smile at her, not exactly disbelieving her statement. He took up her offer to sit, waving one of the serving girls over.
"I'll have 'nother ale, and whatever the young lady is having," he said, indicating Tasida. In an aside to Tasida, he fake-whispered, "Sometimes a drink'll take the edge off, and help recovery from an injury such as yours."
He was normally somewhat of a mischievous fellow, when he wasn't lost in thoughts of his family. Thinking of his family, unfortunately took up a lot of his spare time.
Warren laid enough Bishan on the table to pay for his drink and whatever Tasida ordered, and enough for a decent tip. He didn't believe in skimping.
After a few long moments, she opened her eyes. Again he saw the striking green, and had to remind himself this wasn't his wife. His heart quickened ever so slightly, and he mentally kicked himself. Beautiful eyes though, he thought.
Warren offered an encouraging smile at her, not exactly disbelieving her statement. He took up her offer to sit, waving one of the serving girls over.
"I'll have 'nother ale, and whatever the young lady is having," he said, indicating Tasida. In an aside to Tasida, he fake-whispered, "Sometimes a drink'll take the edge off, and help recovery from an injury such as yours."
He was normally somewhat of a mischievous fellow, when he wasn't lost in thoughts of his family. Thinking of his family, unfortunately took up a lot of his spare time.
Warren laid enough Bishan on the table to pay for his drink and whatever Tasida ordered, and enough for a decent tip. He didn't believe in skimping.
Re: Terrible First Impression
Tasida nodded up at the waitress, "Make that two." She sat back in her chair. When Warren paid for her drink, she offered him another smile. "Thanks. Again." She was now all but sick of that word. The waitress went off to fetch their drinks.
"So," Tasida took another quick sweep of the tavern with her eyes. "I'm Tasida. My family calls me Tas, though." The waitress returned and set a mug in front of each of them. She sat up in her seat and took a drink. After setting her mug down, her green eyes flashed to the axe handle once again.
There was something familiar about this man, but for the life of her, she could not place it. Maybe she saw him before on the street while she was out running or training. Maybe he was in one of the stories her mother told her and her sister before she decided to become a guard. Either way, he did not look the type who lived his life in the city walls. She wondered what his story was.
"You look like you traveled far." She commented before taking another drink.
"So," Tasida took another quick sweep of the tavern with her eyes. "I'm Tasida. My family calls me Tas, though." The waitress returned and set a mug in front of each of them. She sat up in her seat and took a drink. After setting her mug down, her green eyes flashed to the axe handle once again.
There was something familiar about this man, but for the life of her, she could not place it. Maybe she saw him before on the street while she was out running or training. Maybe he was in one of the stories her mother told her and her sister before she decided to become a guard. Either way, he did not look the type who lived his life in the city walls. She wondered what his story was.
"You look like you traveled far." She commented before taking another drink.
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Warren Caylim
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Re: Terrible First Impression
Warren nodded his reply to her thanks, slouching back in his seat and putting an arm over the back of it. After saying, "You can call me Axeman," he seemed content to sit in silence for the moments it took the waitress to bring their drinks. When they did arrive, he reached out with one hand and took a small drink, still remaining slouched in the chair.
He noticed her eyes flicker to his axe, but he was not about to mention anything about it. It was a serviceable woodsman's axe, and for anyone that looked closely at the darkness that stained the head, and the flakes that occasionally peeled off it, they would likely notice that it was blood.
He paused to take in her clothes, assessing whether they were from elsewhere, or had the look of what he took for the local style. It was honestly hard to tell with this one.
"What about yourself? You from these parts?" Warren attempted to cover a bit of his discomfort by taking another short drink, though his discomfort wouldn't be plain except to someone adept at reading body language.
He noticed her eyes flicker to his axe, but he was not about to mention anything about it. It was a serviceable woodsman's axe, and for anyone that looked closely at the darkness that stained the head, and the flakes that occasionally peeled off it, they would likely notice that it was blood.
Warren's pained look might not have even been there if someone wasn't looking closely, but the glimmer of sadness and loss was quickly suppressed. "I've been wanderin' for a year or so now. Itchy feet. Felt like getting away from home and seein' somethin' of the world."Tasida wrote:"You look like you traveled far."
He paused to take in her clothes, assessing whether they were from elsewhere, or had the look of what he took for the local style. It was honestly hard to tell with this one.
"What about yourself? You from these parts?" Warren attempted to cover a bit of his discomfort by taking another short drink, though his discomfort wouldn't be plain except to someone adept at reading body language.
Re: Terrible First Impression
He answered most of the questions she had with those few words. He was a travellin' man, which explained his appearance. He didn't need to worry about making good impressions on any one. Not with that axe to back him up. Though he didn't exactly strike her as the fighting type.
She still wondered about that axe, and why something about it seemed familiar to her. It wasn't something scary, like she felt it should be. Maybe it was nothing at all. Axes are common tools, and she had been out of the city enough to see them at work.
Tasida nodded, "Born and raised right here. Training to be a guard, I just need a job now that I'm out on my own." She secretly hoped he wouldn't make a comment about the drunk taking her by surprise. "Though, I feel myself wanting more and more to get out of the city." She admitted, feeling bad for admitting it. "After all, I did just spend my whole life training as a fighter and nearly got my ass kicked by a drunk." She flashed him a friendly smile and took another swig.
She still wondered about that axe, and why something about it seemed familiar to her. It wasn't something scary, like she felt it should be. Maybe it was nothing at all. Axes are common tools, and she had been out of the city enough to see them at work.
Tasida nodded, "Born and raised right here. Training to be a guard, I just need a job now that I'm out on my own." She secretly hoped he wouldn't make a comment about the drunk taking her by surprise. "Though, I feel myself wanting more and more to get out of the city." She admitted, feeling bad for admitting it. "After all, I did just spend my whole life training as a fighter and nearly got my ass kicked by a drunk." She flashed him a friendly smile and took another swig.
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Warren Caylim
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Re: Terrible First Impression
Warren hid his smirk behind his mug of ale. He hadn't really been going to say something about the fact that wanting to be in the guard meant that she couldn't let any drunk who wanted a piece of a pretty little thing beat on her, no matter that he was much larger than her.
Instead of commenting, he pursed his lips thoughtfully, nodding at her desire to be out of the city.
"I've only been in this city a few days, but cities always feel so ... confining ... to me. I'm much more used to the woods and a couple small cottages than miles of stone and buildings, and crushes of people."
Images of battle suddenly flashed through his head, not a place of comfort for him, and ending with the tremulous smile of his wife as her throat was cut, and the light of life leaving her beautiful green eyes. Maybe the twitch of an eyebrow or a muscle jumping as his jaw tightened told a tale of something deeper beneath the surface of his expressionless exterior, but Warren still forced himself to look into Tasida's green eyes.
"Where would you go, if you were to leave the city? And are you talking permanently, or just for a short period of time, perhaps just some time away?"
Instead of commenting, he pursed his lips thoughtfully, nodding at her desire to be out of the city.
"I've only been in this city a few days, but cities always feel so ... confining ... to me. I'm much more used to the woods and a couple small cottages than miles of stone and buildings, and crushes of people."
Images of battle suddenly flashed through his head, not a place of comfort for him, and ending with the tremulous smile of his wife as her throat was cut, and the light of life leaving her beautiful green eyes. Maybe the twitch of an eyebrow or a muscle jumping as his jaw tightened told a tale of something deeper beneath the surface of his expressionless exterior, but Warren still forced himself to look into Tasida's green eyes.
"Where would you go, if you were to leave the city? And are you talking permanently, or just for a short period of time, perhaps just some time away?"
Last edited by Warren Caylim on Sun Jun 27, 2010 8:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Terrible First Impression
Tasida let her eyes fall slowly down to the table as she adjusted her positioning. It was something she hadn't thought about for years, it seemed. But it was always there in the back of her head. Why she wanted to get out of the city.
"Well, for one thing." Tas locked eyes with him again, "I'm still young so I have the energy to travel. Maybe it's the fact that I'm finally out of my parents' house and can travel since my dad isn't training me all day every day."
Actually she knew already what she wanted to do. She wanted to find her sister- if Caeda was dead then Tas wanted to see her headstone personally. Which was in Europa. At least, that was what the letter said.
"Have you been to Europa?"
"Well, for one thing." Tas locked eyes with him again, "I'm still young so I have the energy to travel. Maybe it's the fact that I'm finally out of my parents' house and can travel since my dad isn't training me all day every day."
Actually she knew already what she wanted to do. She wanted to find her sister- if Caeda was dead then Tas wanted to see her headstone personally. Which was in Europa. At least, that was what the letter said.
"Have you been to Europa?"
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Warren Caylim
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Re: Terrible First Impression
Warren looked at the girl for a long moment. He knew his voice still held traces of an Eyropan accent, and it spoke volumes about Tasida's sheltered life in Marn under the tutelage of her father that she wouldn't recognize Eyropan on his tongue.
The blank look on his face as he studied her, coupled with the long moment of silence, might come across as intimidating, but much of the pause was an attempt to keep his voice devoid of the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
How could this girl, looking nothing like his dead wife, but with the same piercing eyes though not even the same color, and with the same sparkle of life within, cause him to dredge up memories he'd though put behind him long ago? Why did the thought of going back to Eyropa both scare and thrill him? And what could possibly be there to make Warren Caylim wish to return?
With a start, Warren realized he may have let the silence continue for far too long. Thinking quickly, he spoke.
"I see that part of your father's training did not include the recognition of accents. Anyone wishin' to be a guardsman would want to know the speech on their opponents tongue. It would give hints as to where the person was from, and what kind of trainin' one might have to counter should the situation become violent." Warren smiled crookedly as he continued. "I did live in Eyropa for a time. They were some of the best and the worst years of my life. What could there be that interests you in that area?"
The blank look on his face as he studied her, coupled with the long moment of silence, might come across as intimidating, but much of the pause was an attempt to keep his voice devoid of the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
How could this girl, looking nothing like his dead wife, but with the same piercing eyes though not even the same color, and with the same sparkle of life within, cause him to dredge up memories he'd though put behind him long ago? Why did the thought of going back to Eyropa both scare and thrill him? And what could possibly be there to make Warren Caylim wish to return?
With a start, Warren realized he may have let the silence continue for far too long. Thinking quickly, he spoke.
"I see that part of your father's training did not include the recognition of accents. Anyone wishin' to be a guardsman would want to know the speech on their opponents tongue. It would give hints as to where the person was from, and what kind of trainin' one might have to counter should the situation become violent." Warren smiled crookedly as he continued. "I did live in Eyropa for a time. They were some of the best and the worst years of my life. What could there be that interests you in that area?"
Last edited by Warren Caylim on Wed Jun 30, 2010 7:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Terrible First Impression
Tasida couldn't stop her lips from stretching across her face. "My father..." She leaned back in her seat, "was never diplomatic. His was or the road way, or the ground, face-down. The only talking he does is to warn you before he's ready to beat the living snot out of you." She had not noticed his faint accent, or maybe she wasn't paying enough attention to it, either way, the look of stunning disbelief he had given her was a little intimidating. "It could help, you're right." Tas nodded considerately. "But my father trained me to depend upon myself and not others. His idea was if you know where a person comes from you only know what said person might be good at, or what they might do. But what if it was all an act? Accents can be faked, any one can embrace a cultural appearance just to throw off someone trying to find them. It is safer, he thinks, to just be good at it all. Because you never really know." The logic made plenty sense to her, but of course it did because she was raised on it. Tas knew she likely wouldn't change his mind about it, but maybe she could just shed some light.
When Warren asked what about Eyropa had interested her, she kept her eyes locked on his with dead expression. How could she explain that? Well, she could, easily. But all he would get out of it was the shell of the story. Unless he could relate it to his own life, and judging by his age, he might. She took another drink, "Have you lost any one in your direct family? Someone you've lived important parts of your whole life with?"
When Warren asked what about Eyropa had interested her, she kept her eyes locked on his with dead expression. How could she explain that? Well, she could, easily. But all he would get out of it was the shell of the story. Unless he could relate it to his own life, and judging by his age, he might. She took another drink, "Have you lost any one in your direct family? Someone you've lived important parts of your whole life with?"
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Warren Caylim
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Re: Terrible First Impression
The question was like the explosion from a fireball he had seen once, except inside his head. All expression left his face, and the glare from his eyes could have chipped rock. He opened his mouth to tell her she didn't know anything of loss, someone of her age couldn't possibly have lost anyone in the cruel way he had. He opened his mouth to lash out, to call her down, to hurt her, to hurt anyone.
But nothing came out. Instead he scooped up his ale and drained it from three-quarter full to empty in one long draw, small runnels of ale running from the corners of his mouth to drip onto his still filthy shirt unnoticed. The mug rattled around as he set it down hard, carelessly releasing his grasp on it to allow it to rock back and forth before finally settling without falling. Not even noticing, Warren ran a hand through his hair, his expression changing from cold anger to heartbroken anguish before the gesture was complete.
Again the girl had been able to get by his erected barriers and pierce straight to his heart like an arrow. Warren realized that he had not had a conversation that lasted much longer than directions to an inn or place for food for nearly a year. Since his wife and children... That was the line of thinking he had been trying to avoid by not talking to people.
All of this took merely a long moment to occur, and, in the end, Warren simply dropped his face into his hands and rested his elbows on the table. The answer that came out of his mouth was even more simple. "Yes."
But nothing came out. Instead he scooped up his ale and drained it from three-quarter full to empty in one long draw, small runnels of ale running from the corners of his mouth to drip onto his still filthy shirt unnoticed. The mug rattled around as he set it down hard, carelessly releasing his grasp on it to allow it to rock back and forth before finally settling without falling. Not even noticing, Warren ran a hand through his hair, his expression changing from cold anger to heartbroken anguish before the gesture was complete.
Again the girl had been able to get by his erected barriers and pierce straight to his heart like an arrow. Warren realized that he had not had a conversation that lasted much longer than directions to an inn or place for food for nearly a year. Since his wife and children... That was the line of thinking he had been trying to avoid by not talking to people.
All of this took merely a long moment to occur, and, in the end, Warren simply dropped his face into his hands and rested his elbows on the table. The answer that came out of his mouth was even more simple. "Yes."
Re: Terrible First Impression
Tasida could only watch Warren down his drink in shocked silence. The expression on his face sent a jolt of pain straight to her heart, and shocked her to mute. A part of her wanted to apologize, but a stronger part of her knew that apologizing did nothing to ease the pain. It did not bring dead loved ones back. Her hands felt frozen in place while she waited for him to answer, a little bit intimidated.
"I had a sister. She was my best friend." For a moment she considered telling him the whole story. Why not? He understood loss. Maybe more than she did, but she never enjoyed the thought of undermining another person's misfortunes. Then she thought against it. "When I started training with my dad, she ran away. She ran to Eyropa. And a magic-user killed her. They wouldn't tell us where she was buried. They wouldn't let us enter the city for her funeral, even." Her green eyes seemed to haze over while she stared down at the aged wooden table. Suddenly, they darted up and locked with his. "I don't think she's dead."
Just then she realized she had been holding her breath, it came out in a hushed rush while her lungs screamed for oxygen. An apology began creeping up her throat, but she pushed it down with a forceful thought of logic. Passively, Tas tucked a bit of her curly hair behind her ear and took another drink.Yes.
"I had a sister. She was my best friend." For a moment she considered telling him the whole story. Why not? He understood loss. Maybe more than she did, but she never enjoyed the thought of undermining another person's misfortunes. Then she thought against it. "When I started training with my dad, she ran away. She ran to Eyropa. And a magic-user killed her. They wouldn't tell us where she was buried. They wouldn't let us enter the city for her funeral, even." Her green eyes seemed to haze over while she stared down at the aged wooden table. Suddenly, they darted up and locked with his. "I don't think she's dead."