Location: Traveler's Row Time: 8th Bell (8 AM) Date: 20th of Spring, 513 AV
Unlike most it was not the light of Syna that awoke Ethan, but the sounds of the world. The chirp of morning birds, the warmth of the sun's light, the activity in the kitchens below as bodies began to move about. All of this and more brought to Ethan the understanding that morning had come, and slowly he sat up in bed and rubbed sleep from his sightless eyes. The sheets felt rough on his skin, itchy almost, and so Ethan was, in a way, more than happy to toss them aside and turn his body so that his bare feet touched down on the floor.
Ethan had lived in this same room for 15 days now, and so the layout was well knitted into his memory. Without bothering to pick up the walking stick beside his bed Ethan stood, stretching his arms high over head as he yawned and walked around the bed to the dresser. In his mind he counted each footstep, being certain that each step was the same distance as the last, and he paused just before hitting the furniture. His hands quickly found the brush that sat in the very center of the dresser, and just a few quick strokes through his hair and Ethan replaced the brush in the exact same place. Turning, he counted 5 paces until he reached the water basin, having filled it last night, and splashed his face a couple of times, the cold water shocking the rest of the sleep from his body. Washing beneath his arms and the rest of his face, Ethan dried himself with a towel that sat to the left of the basin, and when he wsas finished he neatly folded the clothe and returned it to its original resting place.
Turning once more, Ethan counted five steps to stand before the dresser once more, and then another four to stand beside his bead again. Sitting down on the matress he reached to his right, at the foot of his bed, and took the trousers from where they lay folded, slipping them on before laying back on the bed once more. A yawn struck him again as he scratched his chest, "Well then... I wonder what I shall do today. I am not due at the Tavern till later this evening after all." Sitting up Ethan shrugged, content to spend the day in his room till he had to leave, though perhaps he would go down and get some breakfast while the rest of the inn was only beginning to stir.
Leaning to his left, Ethan took the simple cloth case from the nightstand, feeling the fabric with his fingers as he let his mind wander. Gently he sliped the cloth over its contents, removing from it a simple wooden flute. The wood was smooth, not a crack or marring anywhere to be seen, and as Ethan put it to his lips the sound was nearly perfect pitch. Ethan played a few notes, letting his fingers glide over the familiar object as he thought of his mother. Only a season before she had been alive... only a season...
Ethan's eyes closed as he continued to play, producing a slow, almost mournful melody that resonated from his heart. It was a simple tune, one that perhaps even a novice could have played, yet for Ethan it was not about his skill level at the moment, but about the mood he wished to project.
OOCEthan is sitting only in his trousers on his bed. The door to his room is closed as well, and it is directly in front of Ethan and his bed. Let the scene commence! |
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