Saruna didn't even have to think about it. She smiled at him for agreeing to stay with her, even if only for a few days. The thought of company was cheering, even when she knew she shouldn't be cheered by it. "Yes, that is acceptable." It did not occur to her that a horse might be more than she'd be willing to spend. Rekkan seemed like a nice young man, and therefore he wouldn't ask for anything too outrageous. A horse was a practical request. She could appreciate that.
"If you would be so kind, dear, and fetch more water? We will get you your horse after I regain my breath."
Hunted
Re: Hunted
#biologicallyconscientious||Characters and threads.
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Ran Azshmatha
- Citizen
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Thu Sep 29, 2011 7:58 am
- Name: Ran Azshmatha
- Race: Human
Re: Hunted
Ran sighed inwardly in relief. He felt that his debts to this woman were piling up, but he didn't mind--he was realizing that the debt of life, enormous may it be, was not so bitter in its weight as debts of other kind. Or perhaps it was the way in which Saruna doled out her blessings to him, without severity, which made the alchemist puzzled and grateful at the same time.
All at once, Ran felt naked underneath the thin sheet wrapped around his body.
"Saruna, could you lend me some clothing?"
Ran felt bad, to be helpless in so many aspects. He'd pay back Saruna, but for now he still needed her help in so many ways, and he resigned himself to this fact.
All at once, Ran felt naked underneath the thin sheet wrapped around his body.
"Saruna, could you lend me some clothing?"
Ran felt bad, to be helpless in so many aspects. He'd pay back Saruna, but for now he still needed her help in so many ways, and he resigned himself to this fact.
Re: Hunted
The druid nodded and fetched a bucket. He remembered its place from the previous day, and he already knew the route to the well in Shim. It would be no difficult task, so he hurried along with it. The path was simple, and the actions the same as those he performed the day before. His arms grasped the well's contraption and pulled so that fresh water could be served into the bucket. He even took the chance to fill one hand with such crystal clear liquid and drink from it, feeling refreshed.
With a deep sigh, Rekkan traversed the roads in Shim, taking a small detour to check the village. It was simple and monotonous at a first glance, and maybe it'd prove to be so. But looks can easily deceive... And what has the chance to be one thing, has the chance to be another.
With a deep sigh, Rekkan traversed the roads in Shim, taking a small detour to check the village. It was simple and monotonous at a first glance, and maybe it'd prove to be so. But looks can easily deceive... And what has the chance to be one thing, has the chance to be another.
Re: Hunted
"Ah." Saruna nodded and, after much effort, levered herself out of her chair. She hobbled down the hall, thinking of the time her husband had teasingly offered to carve her a walking stick. She had been in her late thirties then, and hadn't needed it. How bittersweet that she should need one now, and he had never gotten around to making her one. She would need to get one at the end of winter, she thought. It wasn't a pleasant thought.
While in her room she pulled one of her money caches hidden around her home, thinking ruefully of Cal. He must have figured her for abandoning him. Perhaps he'd even go underground, and avoid her if she tried to find him. So there went her money for her personal revolution. For the time being. A benefit to having Rekkan around was that she would be able to get some work done. She would have money to make back. A horse would be a high expense. She just didn't know how high.
She took her time returning to Ran; a ploy to disguise the feeling of being crippled. She wondered if, maybe, a succession of desperate young men would have need of her husband's clothes, until no more remained.
For now, she handed them over to Ran without hard feelings.
While in her room she pulled one of her money caches hidden around her home, thinking ruefully of Cal. He must have figured her for abandoning him. Perhaps he'd even go underground, and avoid her if she tried to find him. So there went her money for her personal revolution. For the time being. A benefit to having Rekkan around was that she would be able to get some work done. She would have money to make back. A horse would be a high expense. She just didn't know how high.
She took her time returning to Ran; a ploy to disguise the feeling of being crippled. She wondered if, maybe, a succession of desperate young men would have need of her husband's clothes, until no more remained.
For now, she handed them over to Ran without hard feelings.
#biologicallyconscientious||Characters and threads.
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Ran Azshmatha
- Citizen
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Thu Sep 29, 2011 7:58 am
- Name: Ran Azshmatha
- Race: Human
Re: Hunted
That very morning, Buruga left his camp on the southern outskirts of the forest for Shim. He left Reev, the dumb bastard, and the Mastiff behind. He wanted no unneeded attention in the town. Reev and the dog would raise a ruckus. Most of the bandits would--being a bandit, Buruga was a special kind. A rare one, poised and deadly in a raid and reasoning otherwise. He could make his way through a town or a city, given that no one closely scrutinized him. If he stuck to the crowds, that was a simple matter.
A large cloak covered his leather-clad body and his two short-swords, and a hood was pulled over his head to cover the coldness of expression, that face which is the affliction of a man whose profession is killing and stealing. No amount of reason or composure could erase that look, but what Buruga could not erase he covered underneath the cloth of his cloak.
The bandit went to town early, bought a room at the inn, and consumed victuals. He made sparse but solemn banter with the innkeep. Buruga knew enough about being a civilized human being to make up a simple lie: he was waiting for a friend. They were to meet in Shim and travel into Marn on business. The bandit knew not to be too specific in his explanations, and had the innkeep fooled.
"He's late," Buruga said, ale untouched, with a hint of worry.
"Where is he coming from?" asked the innkeep.
"South," replied Buruga, and proceeded to describe his 'friend', as well as he could remember which was quite accurately: a beast studies closely the prey he means to kill.
"Nay, but if I run into him I'd gladly let you know."
Buruga was disappointed, but he knew it wouldn't be so easy. His prey, the foreigner, with dark skin and hair like sand, would have been injured--he had seen the injury in the movement of his prey, far away though he was. The bandit had hoped the prey would have caused a great stir as he entered town, perhaps even been arrested, and Buruga could take responsibility for the man and steal him away to the camp. It seemed this was not the case.
The bandit thanked the innkeep and late-morning, he left the inn to find further leads. On one of the side roads of the village, he stopped a woman who seemed to him the type for gossip and asked her whether she had seen his 'friend'. He described to her the appearance of Ran, with no considerations for whether others would overhear.
And indeed, this was a possibility, for unbeknownst to Buruga, Rekkan the herbalist was passing through the same road holding a bucket of water from the well.
***
Meanwhile, Ran changed into the clothes Saruna gave her. The clothes didn't quite fit right, but the alchemist was grateful to have clean clothes on his body. He ran his hand through the waves of dull, sandy blonde hair, the tips of which fell just below his shoulder blades. His hair had grown longer, and it felt good to have them hang free and clean from his scalp. Still, he felt the desire for familiar things arise, felt it grow and begin to be unbearable. He'd have to find something to braid his hair up with--the alchemist had no idea what kind of place he was in, or what he'd do next but he damned well knew how he wanted to have his hair.
For now though, Ran let it go, though not without some difficulty. Ran felt weak from hunger and thirst; his wounded body wanted sustenance. Then something occurred to him--that he'd need to begin worrying about his own sustenance. The crushing weight of freedom left the man dazed. For years, Ran had lived not his own life, was not responsible for his own survival; yes, to control the displaced alchemists, the Eyropan Empire took away their self-sufficiency. Now though, Ran felt a bit stunned from the prospect that both that terrible collar of servitude and the comforting feedbag had both disappeared from his life.
He decided to push it off until he had a meal, and looked about for Saruna.
A large cloak covered his leather-clad body and his two short-swords, and a hood was pulled over his head to cover the coldness of expression, that face which is the affliction of a man whose profession is killing and stealing. No amount of reason or composure could erase that look, but what Buruga could not erase he covered underneath the cloth of his cloak.
The bandit went to town early, bought a room at the inn, and consumed victuals. He made sparse but solemn banter with the innkeep. Buruga knew enough about being a civilized human being to make up a simple lie: he was waiting for a friend. They were to meet in Shim and travel into Marn on business. The bandit knew not to be too specific in his explanations, and had the innkeep fooled.
"He's late," Buruga said, ale untouched, with a hint of worry.
"Where is he coming from?" asked the innkeep.
"South," replied Buruga, and proceeded to describe his 'friend', as well as he could remember which was quite accurately: a beast studies closely the prey he means to kill.
"Nay, but if I run into him I'd gladly let you know."
Buruga was disappointed, but he knew it wouldn't be so easy. His prey, the foreigner, with dark skin and hair like sand, would have been injured--he had seen the injury in the movement of his prey, far away though he was. The bandit had hoped the prey would have caused a great stir as he entered town, perhaps even been arrested, and Buruga could take responsibility for the man and steal him away to the camp. It seemed this was not the case.
The bandit thanked the innkeep and late-morning, he left the inn to find further leads. On one of the side roads of the village, he stopped a woman who seemed to him the type for gossip and asked her whether she had seen his 'friend'. He described to her the appearance of Ran, with no considerations for whether others would overhear.
And indeed, this was a possibility, for unbeknownst to Buruga, Rekkan the herbalist was passing through the same road holding a bucket of water from the well.
***
Meanwhile, Ran changed into the clothes Saruna gave her. The clothes didn't quite fit right, but the alchemist was grateful to have clean clothes on his body. He ran his hand through the waves of dull, sandy blonde hair, the tips of which fell just below his shoulder blades. His hair had grown longer, and it felt good to have them hang free and clean from his scalp. Still, he felt the desire for familiar things arise, felt it grow and begin to be unbearable. He'd have to find something to braid his hair up with--the alchemist had no idea what kind of place he was in, or what he'd do next but he damned well knew how he wanted to have his hair.
For now though, Ran let it go, though not without some difficulty. Ran felt weak from hunger and thirst; his wounded body wanted sustenance. Then something occurred to him--that he'd need to begin worrying about his own sustenance. The crushing weight of freedom left the man dazed. For years, Ran had lived not his own life, was not responsible for his own survival; yes, to control the displaced alchemists, the Eyropan Empire took away their self-sufficiency. Now though, Ran felt a bit stunned from the prospect that both that terrible collar of servitude and the comforting feedbag had both disappeared from his life.
He decided to push it off until he had a meal, and looked about for Saruna.
Re: Hunted
Saruna had not left the chair she'd collapsed into after giving the clothes to Ran. She looked upon him with something like a mother's instinctual knowledge of boys' incessant appetite, and smiled for the fond memories of her own boys.
"I have stored vegetables in my cellar if you wouldn't mind collecting some, young man. You'll want to look for the jars sealed with blue wax. The trapdoor is there, I'll fetch the lamp. It's quite finicky." She levered herself from her chair, and picked up an oil lamp from a small stool right next to the trap door. "I have no water to fill the bottom, so I'll ask you take care with it, Ran." She said sternly, as she poured her remaining olive oil from a corked jar into the bottom of the lamp, and adjusted the wick. Next, she used a long wood splinter to light it, holding the flame to the wick for several seconds until the oil had heated enough to catch.
The lamp was made crudely from clay, with a wide bowl to hold the oil and a fluted end to keep the wick steady. A small handle protruded opposite the now flaming wick, and she cradled the bowl of the lamp in her hands as she held it towards Ran.
"I have stored vegetables in my cellar if you wouldn't mind collecting some, young man. You'll want to look for the jars sealed with blue wax. The trapdoor is there, I'll fetch the lamp. It's quite finicky." She levered herself from her chair, and picked up an oil lamp from a small stool right next to the trap door. "I have no water to fill the bottom, so I'll ask you take care with it, Ran." She said sternly, as she poured her remaining olive oil from a corked jar into the bottom of the lamp, and adjusted the wick. Next, she used a long wood splinter to light it, holding the flame to the wick for several seconds until the oil had heated enough to catch.
The lamp was made crudely from clay, with a wide bowl to hold the oil and a fluted end to keep the wick steady. A small handle protruded opposite the now flaming wick, and she cradled the bowl of the lamp in her hands as she held it towards Ran.
#biologicallyconscientious||Characters and threads.
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Ran Azshmatha
- Citizen
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Thu Sep 29, 2011 7:58 am
- Name: Ran Azshmatha
- Race: Human
Re: Hunted
Ran liked Saruna's smile. He felt that a sort of goodness radiated from the woman, mixed with something else, entirely different from it.
"Sure, Saruna. I'll do it."
He quietly followed her to the trapdoor, and took the lamp from her. He noted her warning and carried the lamp carefully. With a solemn air he opened the trapdoor and climbed up. The dim, flickering light of the lamp cast sharp crevices of shadows leaping to the walls. The alchemist took a moment to get oriented.
The air took on the heated dryness which was unique to air within cellars. Ran looked around. The cellar was well-stocked, too well for only one person. And there were these clothes he was wearing. A man's clothing, not new but they had still been taken care of. The alchemist thought back to the last two days, though he dared not venture further into the past, at least not now. There was only he and Saruna, and Rekkan. Then his eyes found the jars of vegetables and he let go of his thought. There would be time for questions, after his hunger was answered.
Ran emerged with two jars, one somewhat precariously balanced against his body by one arm, the other being in sole charge of the lamp. His body felt stiff and awkward, but he managed to get down from the cellar alright.
In the brighter light of the house, Ran studied the jars. The vegetables, carefully preserved within the jars, reminded him of similarly preserved ingredients which the Hamil Kha alchemists carried with them from one place to another. The method was different, for alchemical ingredients required special preservation. However, the end product looked strikingly similar. Yes, alchemy, anu hikshna, the wisdom of his tribe and his uncle, Oruhan--
Ran forced himself out of his head and smiled at Saruna, though what came out was not quite a smile as fog is not quite rain. He pushed the thought out of his mind, and it pushed back, hard, and there was a sort of war raging within Ran's heart until that though which originally had offended the alchemist was pushed from all sides into a small, hard, and heavy point, a seed which then sank into him.
"These look good," Ran noted. He seemed back to normal. Just then, his stomach grumbled in protest at its emptiness, and Ran smiled sheepishly as if to punctuate the sound.
"Sure, Saruna. I'll do it."
He quietly followed her to the trapdoor, and took the lamp from her. He noted her warning and carried the lamp carefully. With a solemn air he opened the trapdoor and climbed up. The dim, flickering light of the lamp cast sharp crevices of shadows leaping to the walls. The alchemist took a moment to get oriented.
The air took on the heated dryness which was unique to air within cellars. Ran looked around. The cellar was well-stocked, too well for only one person. And there were these clothes he was wearing. A man's clothing, not new but they had still been taken care of. The alchemist thought back to the last two days, though he dared not venture further into the past, at least not now. There was only he and Saruna, and Rekkan. Then his eyes found the jars of vegetables and he let go of his thought. There would be time for questions, after his hunger was answered.
Ran emerged with two jars, one somewhat precariously balanced against his body by one arm, the other being in sole charge of the lamp. His body felt stiff and awkward, but he managed to get down from the cellar alright.
In the brighter light of the house, Ran studied the jars. The vegetables, carefully preserved within the jars, reminded him of similarly preserved ingredients which the Hamil Kha alchemists carried with them from one place to another. The method was different, for alchemical ingredients required special preservation. However, the end product looked strikingly similar. Yes, alchemy, anu hikshna, the wisdom of his tribe and his uncle, Oruhan--
Ran forced himself out of his head and smiled at Saruna, though what came out was not quite a smile as fog is not quite rain. He pushed the thought out of his mind, and it pushed back, hard, and there was a sort of war raging within Ran's heart until that though which originally had offended the alchemist was pushed from all sides into a small, hard, and heavy point, a seed which then sank into him.
"These look good," Ran noted. He seemed back to normal. Just then, his stomach grumbled in protest at its emptiness, and Ran smiled sheepishly as if to punctuate the sound.
Re: Hunted
Saruna was not adverse to work, but at the moment it was all she could do to keep herself standing. One of the jars he had picked out was full of pickled purple carrot slices, and the idea of simply opening the thing and letting him eat it as they waited for water seemed like a great way of keeping herself from toppling over.
She gestured to the cabinet where her few and precious tools and dining implements were kept. "Please, help yourself. I was thinking a hearty soup was in order, but until Rekkan returns with our water I'm afraid you'll be contenting yourself right out of the jar."
She gestured to the cabinet where her few and precious tools and dining implements were kept. "Please, help yourself. I was thinking a hearty soup was in order, but until Rekkan returns with our water I'm afraid you'll be contenting yourself right out of the jar."
#biologicallyconscientious||Characters and threads.
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Ran Azshmatha
- Citizen
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Thu Sep 29, 2011 7:58 am
- Name: Ran Azshmatha
- Race: Human
Re: Hunted
Ran didn't need greater confirmation than that. He opened one of the jars, the one with pickled carrots, with some difficulty but with great enthusiasm nevertheless, almost dropping the jar in the process but managing just barely to avoid a messy and embarrassing mistake. The alchemist slid his fingers into the jar and picked out a slice of the carrot.
He grimaced just a little at the sourness of the brine but quite enjoyed the flavor. In any case, his hunger was great enough to sugar almost anything that he could conceivably eat, and the alchemist continued the procession of grabbing, chewing, and swallowing for a few minutes until he felt just good enough to stop for a moment.
"Thanks again Saruna. I don't know yet exactly how, but your kindness will be repaid, I swear to you," Ran said suddenly, inspired perhaps by the traces of food inspiring great joy in his mouth and his being. There was nothing quite like the base necessities of life to inspire the most honorable gratitude, and the fiercest barbarity. Ran let the relative silence rule over them for a few moments, before noting the herbalist's absence.
"Rekkan's taking a while. Is the well far from here?" Then abruptly, without waiting for an answer, Ran said to Saruna: "but wait, I'm sure the herbalist is fine. But please if you can, I'm dying to know about this place I am found myself in."
He grimaced just a little at the sourness of the brine but quite enjoyed the flavor. In any case, his hunger was great enough to sugar almost anything that he could conceivably eat, and the alchemist continued the procession of grabbing, chewing, and swallowing for a few minutes until he felt just good enough to stop for a moment.
"Thanks again Saruna. I don't know yet exactly how, but your kindness will be repaid, I swear to you," Ran said suddenly, inspired perhaps by the traces of food inspiring great joy in his mouth and his being. There was nothing quite like the base necessities of life to inspire the most honorable gratitude, and the fiercest barbarity. Ran let the relative silence rule over them for a few moments, before noting the herbalist's absence.
"Rekkan's taking a while. Is the well far from here?" Then abruptly, without waiting for an answer, Ran said to Saruna: "but wait, I'm sure the herbalist is fine. But please if you can, I'm dying to know about this place I am found myself in."
Re: Hunted
Remaining idle was not something Saruna was particularly good at, and she fussed at her skirts as she sat and listened to Ran. "There may be a line," she said thoughtfully. Besides, she didn't begrudge the man for taking his time. Changers knew the buckets were heavy when full.
She considered his request for information. "This town is named Shim. It's largely a quiet place, but there are . . . well, folktales. It is an offshoot of Marn, to the west, though independent enough to remain free of the clutches of Marn's oppressive government." She pinched her lips closed and stared angrily down at her hands. When she continued, her voice was stiff with restraint. "Both Shim and Marn are not as populous as they were years ago. Traders don't like coming through with so many regulations. Other routes have opened up further south, and I suspect one day there will be a trading post that will grow into another city, so long as they too are not oppressed by Marn."
She considered his request for information. "This town is named Shim. It's largely a quiet place, but there are . . . well, folktales. It is an offshoot of Marn, to the west, though independent enough to remain free of the clutches of Marn's oppressive government." She pinched her lips closed and stared angrily down at her hands. When she continued, her voice was stiff with restraint. "Both Shim and Marn are not as populous as they were years ago. Traders don't like coming through with so many regulations. Other routes have opened up further south, and I suspect one day there will be a trading post that will grow into another city, so long as they too are not oppressed by Marn."
#biologicallyconscientious||Characters and threads.
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Ran Azshmatha
- Citizen
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Thu Sep 29, 2011 7:58 am
- Name: Ran Azshmatha
- Race: Human
Re: Hunted
Ran continued to eat while he listened. So this was Shim. He hadn't heard of it before, or maybe he did but he had no reason to pay attention. The alchemist paid close attention to Saruna--the tightening of her body, her avoidant eyes, a look of guilt and resentment in them. She had described the city--Marn, that was the walled city Ran had spotted from the other side of the Ofriyu Mar, and he had taken comfort in its sights--as oppressive.
He finished chewing and responded.
"I have been to many places Saruna, all across this continent I've wandered, and this I'll tell you: most men live oppressed or wretched, and usually both," Ran paused to ponder on the small society of his own people, the Hamil Kha. There, the oppression came not from men but from the earth, from the sea, from the sky, and from the nightmares of the astral. But he had not been wretched there, as he was wretched now. His face must have looked strikingly similar to Saruna's own at this moment.
Something else occurred to Ran at the time and he vocalized it.
"So then, Shim and Mar... these are not Eyropan Empire's lands?"
He finished chewing and responded.
"I have been to many places Saruna, all across this continent I've wandered, and this I'll tell you: most men live oppressed or wretched, and usually both," Ran paused to ponder on the small society of his own people, the Hamil Kha. There, the oppression came not from men but from the earth, from the sea, from the sky, and from the nightmares of the astral. But he had not been wretched there, as he was wretched now. His face must have looked strikingly similar to Saruna's own at this moment.
Something else occurred to Ran at the time and he vocalized it.
"So then, Shim and Mar... these are not Eyropan Empire's lands?"
Re: Hunted
Saruna did not take kindly to learning lessons at a young man's knee, and though for the sake of politeness to her guest she tried to hide the indignation that rose she could not fully disguise the stiffness in her voice.
"Marn belongs fully to itself, though I feel it would be for the greater good should it belong to the Emperor. There is scarce good coming out of Marn, believe you me." She drew herself up primly as she spoke, gone stubborn in her old age.
"Marn belongs fully to itself, though I feel it would be for the greater good should it belong to the Emperor. There is scarce good coming out of Marn, believe you me." She drew herself up primly as she spoke, gone stubborn in her old age.
#biologicallyconscientious||Characters and threads.
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Ran Azshmatha
- Citizen
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Thu Sep 29, 2011 7:58 am
- Name: Ran Azshmatha
- Race: Human
Re: Hunted
Ran, sensitive to subtle intonations and shifts in body language, fidgeted just a little at the stiffness in Saruna's voice. Something he said must have offended her, but he wasn't sure what. Years of being a stranger and a foreigner had taught him not to lose his cool though, and he took a few minutes pretending he didn't notice the straightening of Saruna's posture, instead letting himself sigh inwardly with relief.
The alchemist, having but briefly regained the conceit of self-determination, felt his independence--until that moment a wisp of an idea--take form and root itself firmly on the ground. As far as he knew, everyone that could possibly know of his whereabouts were dead or outlawed. And for now at least, in this moment, this realization was a delicacy to be savored. He couldn't help but smile. Insensitive as though it may be, knowing that he had offended his host, that emotion of joy at the moment was too much for Ran to contain.
He externalized his sigh, and took a seat nearby.
"I have no love for the emperor, Saruna, no love for the empire. It was he that brought me here, that made me a ghost to my own people, wrenched me from all that I knew. If oppression you hate, oppression is he!"
By this point Ran's voice took on a peculiar quality, it was joy, relief, anguish, a sweet and bitter mixture, potent in its incomprehensible composition. His words were, by sound and meaning, hateful--yet the joy of long-sought freedom, traumatic in its arrival, worked an emotional alchemy Ran could not even begin to suppress and the tone of his voice took on that of rejoicing.
He then seemed to come back to himself, back to earth from the upper atmosphere of a revelation, and his eyes focused on Saruna. There was a moment of understanding. Ran began to understand that Saruna viewed this independent city, Marn, in the same way that he himself viewed the Empire. And suddenly, there was no clear division between the safety of Shim and the oppression of the Empire. Oppression was here, just as Ran himself had said without much thought. He shuddered and tried to change the subject.
"The herbalist is taking his time."
Ran ran one hand through the waves of his sand-yellow hair, pulling it straight until it hit the top of his shoulders. He felt naked without his braids.
The alchemist, having but briefly regained the conceit of self-determination, felt his independence--until that moment a wisp of an idea--take form and root itself firmly on the ground. As far as he knew, everyone that could possibly know of his whereabouts were dead or outlawed. And for now at least, in this moment, this realization was a delicacy to be savored. He couldn't help but smile. Insensitive as though it may be, knowing that he had offended his host, that emotion of joy at the moment was too much for Ran to contain.
He externalized his sigh, and took a seat nearby.
"I have no love for the emperor, Saruna, no love for the empire. It was he that brought me here, that made me a ghost to my own people, wrenched me from all that I knew. If oppression you hate, oppression is he!"
By this point Ran's voice took on a peculiar quality, it was joy, relief, anguish, a sweet and bitter mixture, potent in its incomprehensible composition. His words were, by sound and meaning, hateful--yet the joy of long-sought freedom, traumatic in its arrival, worked an emotional alchemy Ran could not even begin to suppress and the tone of his voice took on that of rejoicing.
He then seemed to come back to himself, back to earth from the upper atmosphere of a revelation, and his eyes focused on Saruna. There was a moment of understanding. Ran began to understand that Saruna viewed this independent city, Marn, in the same way that he himself viewed the Empire. And suddenly, there was no clear division between the safety of Shim and the oppression of the Empire. Oppression was here, just as Ran himself had said without much thought. He shuddered and tried to change the subject.
"The herbalist is taking his time."
Ran ran one hand through the waves of his sand-yellow hair, pulling it straight until it hit the top of his shoulders. He felt naked without his braids.
Re: Hunted
"Better to know the quality of your collar than to not know you are collared at all." Saruna gave retort before she fully realized she was speaking, and when Ran changed the subject she tactfully let it stand. She didn't recall being so graceless in her youth; another drawback of aging, she supposed.
"Perhaps he too is tired. Where, exactly, are you from?"
"Perhaps he too is tired. Where, exactly, are you from?"
#biologicallyconscientious||Characters and threads.
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Ran Azshmatha
- Citizen
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Thu Sep 29, 2011 7:58 am
- Name: Ran Azshmatha
- Race: Human
Re: Hunted
At that moment, the sunlight streaming in through a nearby window revealed briefly to Ran the luminal hues of his homeland. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but held his tongue for the time being. He was reconstructing that place which was more than a memory. It was a sanctuary, embittered and sweetened by the longing of Ran's fantasies. He had not basked in its orange glow for so long!
"From the south, near the Great Scar."
Ran paused, to regain himself from the effects of the first few words. He needed the moments to ready himself, then he was once again composed.
"The land where I am from is a great desert. There's little water, but my people know where to find it. We call ourselves the Hamil Kha. You have not heard of us, yes? Not many know about us."
It felt good to say the name of his tribe, and to once again declare us, holding preciously on to that accented Eyropan speech which evidenced his position as one of the "us".
"From the south, near the Great Scar."
Ran paused, to regain himself from the effects of the first few words. He needed the moments to ready himself, then he was once again composed.
"The land where I am from is a great desert. There's little water, but my people know where to find it. We call ourselves the Hamil Kha. You have not heard of us, yes? Not many know about us."
It felt good to say the name of his tribe, and to once again declare us, holding preciously on to that accented Eyropan speech which evidenced his position as one of the "us".