Re: The New Recruit
Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 2:55 am
Mire ignored Latifa’s thoughtless comment. Making one seemed to fit with the woman’s personality. Veridian grinned at Latifa’s words and the lascivious look on her face. It was a good look for any woman to wear.
“I like the way you think, m’dear.” He replied as she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the dancing. Pub dancing was different from the hoity-toity affairs held by the upper crust. Here, they laughed and yelled and stomped their feet. They spun their partners and tossed them in the air. They pulled close and ground against one another.
The musician’s played with grins on their faces, sucking down pints. There was a concertina, a guitar, a fiddle, and hand drums to drive the rhythm. The dance floor was packed and the floorboards bounced with the weight, but never broke. When a set started, the people formed lines and moved back and forth like the waves. Then, like a flock of birds turning and angling, the lines dove and wove, forming ancient patterns, circles and spirals.
As they danced, sometimes Veridian’s fingers grazed over her hip as he slipped away through the lines, but his gaze never left her face. He smiled at her when their gazes met. When finally, it was their turn to meet in the middle, he pulled her close and tight, holding one of her hand’s in his right. His arm was around her waist and he moved her and with her through the motions, never missing a beat. He was well-built in a slim sort of way, wiry versus muscular.
“You’re a very good dancer,” Veridian murmured in her ear. “We should dance more later, maybe invite a friend or two along…”
Mire downed two-finger’s worth and watched, foot tapping, before she was suddenly snatched up and pulled into the fray. No one sat near to the dancing for long, without being pulled in. It was one of the half-elves. As she was spun this way and that, she felt the tension and worry leaving her. Soon, she was laughing along with everyone else. Brooding was not her forte. Somehow, through the crowd of dancers, drinks were passed and drunk. Glorious, chaotic madness and wonderful until someone’s ego got bruised. Tonight, hopefully, wouldn’t be one of those kinds of nights. It would ruin her buzz.
“I like the way you think, m’dear.” He replied as she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the dancing. Pub dancing was different from the hoity-toity affairs held by the upper crust. Here, they laughed and yelled and stomped their feet. They spun their partners and tossed them in the air. They pulled close and ground against one another.
The musician’s played with grins on their faces, sucking down pints. There was a concertina, a guitar, a fiddle, and hand drums to drive the rhythm. The dance floor was packed and the floorboards bounced with the weight, but never broke. When a set started, the people formed lines and moved back and forth like the waves. Then, like a flock of birds turning and angling, the lines dove and wove, forming ancient patterns, circles and spirals.
As they danced, sometimes Veridian’s fingers grazed over her hip as he slipped away through the lines, but his gaze never left her face. He smiled at her when their gazes met. When finally, it was their turn to meet in the middle, he pulled her close and tight, holding one of her hand’s in his right. His arm was around her waist and he moved her and with her through the motions, never missing a beat. He was well-built in a slim sort of way, wiry versus muscular.
“You’re a very good dancer,” Veridian murmured in her ear. “We should dance more later, maybe invite a friend or two along…”
Mire downed two-finger’s worth and watched, foot tapping, before she was suddenly snatched up and pulled into the fray. No one sat near to the dancing for long, without being pulled in. It was one of the half-elves. As she was spun this way and that, she felt the tension and worry leaving her. Soon, she was laughing along with everyone else. Brooding was not her forte. Somehow, through the crowd of dancers, drinks were passed and drunk. Glorious, chaotic madness and wonderful until someone’s ego got bruised. Tonight, hopefully, wouldn’t be one of those kinds of nights. It would ruin her buzz.