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.
At the mention of stolen horses Dravite sat up, surprised he hadn't heard about it through his line of work but as Lian divulged on the details he couldn't help but recognise the bigger picture, one his friend probably failed to see through the fog of his own anger, "witnesses?" The horse lord questioned, or rather, presented the woman's argument in alternative form, "many got animals from the chest," he then agreed, "if she was that desperate to leave you she has found the perfect excuse.”
For a time he looked thoughtful, hearing his friend out, it wasn't fair to just assume, logic must play its part too. "You should go to her," Dravite finally decided, "when you have calmed down, you must give it a few days perhaps. Ask her who witnessed her claim her gift from the gods and if they agree to her story you can do none but believe her; better still, ask to see the horses, you're Drykas, you know better than most whether or not a horse is stolen or bonded." Perhaps not the words poor Lian wanted to hear, but they would give the man something to think about; another perspective.
Shortly after this Pearl emerged from the tent, followed closely by Kyanite who was wielding a small instrument. The boy dashed towards the pair excitedly and welcomed Lian to the camp before holding up the drum like a king, triumphant in battle, holds up the severed head of his enemy. surprise, curiosity, gift, Dravite signed as he asked about the drum, "what is it?"
"Drum!" Kyanite announced gleefully as he moved to first lean against his father and then on his lap to trap the base of the drum between his knobby little knees.
Kyanite struck the taut leather, pounding it as if the idea of the instrument was to make as much noise as possible. Only a few ticks in, Dravite put his hand over that of his son’s and whispered, "Softly, slowly."
Dravite smiled up at Pearl as if to thank her for thinking of the children while she was out before he started singing lowly to the boy. "Little lion and his drum, hum, hum," the horse lord struck the top of the drum whenever he said the word hum, "playing songs for everyone, hum, hum; hear him matching through the grove, drumming softly as he goes; little lion and his drum, hum, hum."
Blue eyes stared up at him when the song was done and Dravite couldn't help but smile, "again," Kyanite insisted.
"No, you must practice, why don't you go play for the goats," he suggested to the boy.
"Kimba, Kimba, Kimba," the boy called, dashing across camp to where the mother goat lay enjoying the sun; she was very tolerant of the drumming and the boy.
"Gently," Dravite encouraged, "leave the thunder to the gods."
A sidelong glance had Lian in his sights again and he smiled half-heartedly for the man, unable to fathom what he must be going through; if one of his wives left with his sons he would be harder to tame than a tornado. "Women are, delicate," Dravite picked his words carefully in case Pearl or Yuki were within earshot, "trust is very important, perhaps you must show her you can be trusted; that you can remain level headed when rage clouds your vision and you feel a storm in your heart. If she is truly a Drykas, you can no longer rule her with fear, so give her your trust and maybe she will return it to you."
.
.
.
.
At the mention of stolen horses Dravite sat up, surprised he hadn't heard about it through his line of work but as Lian divulged on the details he couldn't help but recognise the bigger picture, one his friend probably failed to see through the fog of his own anger, "witnesses?" The horse lord questioned, or rather, presented the woman's argument in alternative form, "many got animals from the chest," he then agreed, "if she was that desperate to leave you she has found the perfect excuse.”
For a time he looked thoughtful, hearing his friend out, it wasn't fair to just assume, logic must play its part too. "You should go to her," Dravite finally decided, "when you have calmed down, you must give it a few days perhaps. Ask her who witnessed her claim her gift from the gods and if they agree to her story you can do none but believe her; better still, ask to see the horses, you're Drykas, you know better than most whether or not a horse is stolen or bonded." Perhaps not the words poor Lian wanted to hear, but they would give the man something to think about; another perspective.
Shortly after this Pearl emerged from the tent, followed closely by Kyanite who was wielding a small instrument. The boy dashed towards the pair excitedly and welcomed Lian to the camp before holding up the drum like a king, triumphant in battle, holds up the severed head of his enemy. surprise, curiosity, gift, Dravite signed as he asked about the drum, "what is it?"
"Drum!" Kyanite announced gleefully as he moved to first lean against his father and then on his lap to trap the base of the drum between his knobby little knees.
Kyanite struck the taut leather, pounding it as if the idea of the instrument was to make as much noise as possible. Only a few ticks in, Dravite put his hand over that of his son’s and whispered, "Softly, slowly."
Dravite smiled up at Pearl as if to thank her for thinking of the children while she was out before he started singing lowly to the boy. "Little lion and his drum, hum, hum," the horse lord struck the top of the drum whenever he said the word hum, "playing songs for everyone, hum, hum; hear him matching through the grove, drumming softly as he goes; little lion and his drum, hum, hum."
Blue eyes stared up at him when the song was done and Dravite couldn't help but smile, "again," Kyanite insisted.
"No, you must practice, why don't you go play for the goats," he suggested to the boy.
"Kimba, Kimba, Kimba," the boy called, dashing across camp to where the mother goat lay enjoying the sun; she was very tolerant of the drumming and the boy.
"Gently," Dravite encouraged, "leave the thunder to the gods."
A sidelong glance had Lian in his sights again and he smiled half-heartedly for the man, unable to fathom what he must be going through; if one of his wives left with his sons he would be harder to tame than a tornado. "Women are, delicate," Dravite picked his words carefully in case Pearl or Yuki were within earshot, "trust is very important, perhaps you must show her you can be trusted; that you can remain level headed when rage clouds your vision and you feel a storm in your heart. If she is truly a Drykas, you can no longer rule her with fear, so give her your trust and maybe she will return it to you."
.
.
.
