[The Trough] Bolting Horse (Open)

[Aran]

Timestamp: 51 Spring, A.V

A beautiful and mild afternoon. With Syna’s blessings, the sun hung high in the air, its warm and bearable light gently caressing the all manner of creatures. A light breeze rose through the air, cooling the entire city. Her stomach growled, the hunger fiercely churning in her gut. Her pavilion would have welcomed her to break bread with them but hustle of the Ankhal over his daughter’s union negotiations had taken precedence in everyone’s minds. Aran wished Malian, her cousin well, but the incessant clambering over the nature of the negotiations by her gossiping aunts had left her terse. A clipped farewell, she announced her departure to the rest of gathered members much to her aunt’s admonitions. Her mother had rolled her eyes, and bid her to go much to her relief.

In the lessening distance, the tents of ‘The Trough’ could be seen. At least there, she would be spared the gossips and find a few hours of amusement. Bending down, she stepped inside the makeshift tavern, the low hum-drum of voices, pottery clattering while food was being devoured met her eyes and ears. It looked her own home, without the fussy women.

[Kayiri]

Damn the scar! It did nothing but cause him pain! Kayiri clamped his teeth as he leaned against the table in a compromising way, trying to stretch his arm. Finally, he let out a loud pant, opening his eyes, rolling his shoulder around in it's socket.

The scar reminded him of his hatred for Zith every rainy day of his life with these fits of pain. At this point, he couldn't even tell if the pain was real or a figment of his imagination. It didn't matter, it was debilitating either way. He splashed his face with water from his wash-basin, shaking his head to remove the excess water. He would go to the tavern. Maybe getting drunk would help him forget his pains... or at least, he wouldn't remember them. He laughed quietly to himself. Yes, The Trough sounded better by the second.

Casually, he exited his family's Pavilion, saying a quick well-wishing to his father, who did the same. Out of habit, he chanced a glance at his scar, frowning as he confirmed that it was still there. The flesh where the claws had torn through were a pinkish color, tracing along the tanned skin in jagged lines.

Of course, whilst he examined the old wound, he made sure he was still progressing towards The Trough, and was soon there. With a smile, he entered, the loud, talkative atmosphere instantly surrounding him. No place like a bar, he supposed.

Quietly, he scanned the room, and upon finding no one of interest, settled down in a seat close to the door that had been recently vacated.

[Aran]

Raucous laughter broke out, projecting through the tavern. Few paid it much heed engrossed in their own tales but the ones seated nearby directed a speaking look its highly amused occupant, still chortling while his own male companion with red cheeks bit back a guffaw. Strangers, they were for Aran did not make them of being Drykas men.

Engrossed in the scene, a sudden pat on her shoulders by a looming presence. Her long neck arched, turning till brown eyes settled on sheepish boy, fidgeting in his place and looking over the occupied tables and the path to them...which she was currently blocking. An embarrassed shrug and smile, lead her to take one step back. “Apologies. Off you go now.” Darting past her, she joined the loud pair seated in the centre of tented tavern.

Tables all occupied. The rider would have to take a chance and join one of the tables..of which she knew no one. The giant seated near the door caught her eye. A male Drykas, surely, and someone she did not know. Long legs in a brisk pace, till she reached the table. A steady smile on her face, “Friend, might I share your table for a repast?”

[Kayiri]

Kayiri looked up from his own little pensive state, smiling warmly at the woman that had just approached him. "Please, be my guest," Kayiri said with equal warmth as his smile, rising to his feet and pulling the chair opposite from him out. He was a strange man, that much was certain. He finally lumbered back down into his seat, leaning forward so his elbows were on the table.

Quickly, he looked the woman over. Beautiful she was indeed, with flowing brown hair and a stunningly beautiful pair of brown eyes. He smiled once again. For some reason, the woman reminded him of Hex, and when Hex was remembered, he remembered Vanator. His memory worked in mysterious ways.

"I'm Kayiri, by the way, miss. Nice to meet you," he said in his friendly tone, sitting up straight once again. He looked around, kind of surprised all the table were full. "Busy night," he then said, the surprise apparent in his voice. He couldn't recall if he had ever seen The Trough this full before. "Did I miss a holiday or something?" he then asked himself quietly, letting out one of his odd, quiet chuckles, leaning back in his seat.

[Aran]

If there ever was a Drykas male that wished to be alone, it was not this one seated before her. In fact, Aran found herself returning his smile, a wide one that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "And I thank you for your kind offer." Reaching out for the chair, she was surprised when he had pulled it out for her. Seated on the edge on her seat, shifted to the side such that her right arm was placed flat on the table. "Fine manners too."

The discerning look he had given her was returned with a frank one. She had never been one, that most boys would stare after, not when she would normally be caked with dirt, smell like manure and harboring loose braids. Right now, she fairly clean and her clothing neat.

"Aran of the Cloudspinner Pavilion. Amethyst Clan. Likewise Kayiri," her tone friendly though curious. A Drykas man but to which pavilion did he claim shelter under? A soft chuckle erupted from her, "Indeed, so my thanks again for letting me share your table." Her visits to the Trough were infrequent though she knew most visitors made good use of the establishment. "Not that I knew of and if you did, then so did we all," she shrugged, a slight shake of her shoulder. Patting her stomach, she sighed, the hunger pangs were growing, "Right now, I could eat anything."

[Kayiri]

Kayiri shrugged when she commented on his manners. "Blame the damned foreigners. They leave impressions when you travel with them for too long," he then added sarcastically. He flushed for a second as she listed her Pavilion and clan, and then frowned, speaking hurriedly and apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I forgot. Problem being, I can't really say what clan I'm in. My past is too twisted and confusing for that..." he trailed off, staring almost blankly past her as unseen memories blew past him. Finally, he broke the silence with a voice as friendly and calm as before. "Let us simply say I'm of the Diamond clan, for that seems to be most fitting for the moment. Starweaver Pavilion" Kayiri's mind danced amongst subjects, trying to find something to get off of the uncomfortable subject of his heritage.

"Aye, I as well. Best to get food, though. Eating the table tends to end badly, I know from experience," he then joked to her comment on food. He raised his hand, waving a waiter over, ordering two of the house special, whatever the hell that was. "I'll pay for you, miss. It's been ages since I've had some nice company, consider it repayment," he then mused, smiling that winning smile before leaning back in his seat again.

[Tundris]

Kayiri
+1 Storytelling
Lores:
Eating With Strangers, Drykas Manners

Aran
+1 Storytelling
Lores:
The Hustle and Bustle of Family, Drykas Manners, Eating with Strangers

Notes: Short thread but I know how that goes! At least it gave a chance for Kayiri to talk about this clan uncertainty.