He was about to walk off, disappear into the blackness of the night when her voice awoken him from this cruel daze he found him self in. ”Valo, you get your red headed petching arse back here!”
For he had been acting out of character so profoundly. Forsaking his gentlemanly manner. If he had been of sound mind, or perhaps not under the weak, lingering influence of alcohol that so sluggishly washed over him, dropping the man into soberness, he would have never treated her with such simple rudeness. Never would he simply turn his back on the woman. A fool he was and his eyes were forced open to this fact and he halted almost instantly in horror of his code of conduct.
As more of her words rolled from her tongue. The sweet, hushed sound of them as a direct contrast to her apparent feelings. But Valo had known her long enough to read her like a book, to recognise this juxtaposition of behaviour and intention. But upon that calmer the realisation that it was no longer him she spoke to, but another soul that now joined them in the emptiness of the night, upon the coolness of the winter cobbles. In the perpetuation of an unpleasant moment. A stranger perhaps. And the more protective side of Valo hurled him self from his skin, ripping the man in two and taking complete control of his mind, as the coward who wished so terribly to return to his home and curl up under the blankets, was pushed so brutally out of the way in the battle of his mind. And at once he was by her. A slender arm gripping lightly at her shoulder, letting her know he was by her.No matter what would happen, she would be safe with him.
“My name is Elliha, Elliha Greywind. I just came from the docks and…”
And what? ’I think I saw someone getting killed and thought maybe you can help?" came the voice of the stranger.
Perhaps it was Valo's territorial paranoia - for he had grown such in the past days. It's what witnessing a murder tends to do to a man - that rendered his feature stern and his tongue still in his mouth. Breathing heavily, eyeing the man before him with a predatory glare to the dusty emerald colouring of his eyes. Suffice to say, he did not trust him. not in the least. And even less did he trust him, alone in the street at night with his precious friend by his side. If he had his bow with him, then perhaps Valo would have given the man a chance. But the trusted weapon was not with him and his instinct was to bark like an enraged dog. Though subduing that instinct was not as simple to him in the deeply emotional state that now painted solely in his eyes, the artist remained quiet and completely still. And if one knew not better, than one might have mistaken him for a statue.
A muffled scratching of little claws upon cobble stoned reached his ears. The sound of tiny feet, peter pattering upon cold stone, sniffing and scratching, scurrying from lamp light and weaving though crevices in the pavement. The god forsaken creatures that now plagued the city much alike the pestilence had. Scavengers of death, the rats with the graphite sheen to their fur and their gleaming embers of eyes. The perfect sounds to rill the silence that fallowed the previous thunderous roar at the hands of the fragment thief.
For he had been acting out of character so profoundly. Forsaking his gentlemanly manner. If he had been of sound mind, or perhaps not under the weak, lingering influence of alcohol that so sluggishly washed over him, dropping the man into soberness, he would have never treated her with such simple rudeness. Never would he simply turn his back on the woman. A fool he was and his eyes were forced open to this fact and he halted almost instantly in horror of his code of conduct.
As more of her words rolled from her tongue. The sweet, hushed sound of them as a direct contrast to her apparent feelings. But Valo had known her long enough to read her like a book, to recognise this juxtaposition of behaviour and intention. But upon that calmer the realisation that it was no longer him she spoke to, but another soul that now joined them in the emptiness of the night, upon the coolness of the winter cobbles. In the perpetuation of an unpleasant moment. A stranger perhaps. And the more protective side of Valo hurled him self from his skin, ripping the man in two and taking complete control of his mind, as the coward who wished so terribly to return to his home and curl up under the blankets, was pushed so brutally out of the way in the battle of his mind. And at once he was by her. A slender arm gripping lightly at her shoulder, letting her know he was by her.No matter what would happen, she would be safe with him.
“My name is Elliha, Elliha Greywind. I just came from the docks and…”
And what? ’I think I saw someone getting killed and thought maybe you can help?" came the voice of the stranger.
Perhaps it was Valo's territorial paranoia - for he had grown such in the past days. It's what witnessing a murder tends to do to a man - that rendered his feature stern and his tongue still in his mouth. Breathing heavily, eyeing the man before him with a predatory glare to the dusty emerald colouring of his eyes. Suffice to say, he did not trust him. not in the least. And even less did he trust him, alone in the street at night with his precious friend by his side. If he had his bow with him, then perhaps Valo would have given the man a chance. But the trusted weapon was not with him and his instinct was to bark like an enraged dog. Though subduing that instinct was not as simple to him in the deeply emotional state that now painted solely in his eyes, the artist remained quiet and completely still. And if one knew not better, than one might have mistaken him for a statue.
A muffled scratching of little claws upon cobble stoned reached his ears. The sound of tiny feet, peter pattering upon cold stone, sniffing and scratching, scurrying from lamp light and weaving though crevices in the pavement. The god forsaken creatures that now plagued the city much alike the pestilence had. Scavengers of death, the rats with the graphite sheen to their fur and their gleaming embers of eyes. The perfect sounds to rill the silence that fallowed the previous thunderous roar at the hands of the fragment thief.