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..53rd Spring, 515
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..53rd Spring, 515
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Zhol scratched at the bare skin over his collar bone, a subconscious attempt in vain to subtly hide himself from view. Whether it had any affect on the attention of others, he didn't know; but it certainly affected his attention, reminding him once again of what he was wearing... or rather, what he wasn't.
It had seemed like such a good idea at the time; such a sweet idea, even. It was the fifty-third day of spring: an ordinary day by all accounts, made remarkable only by the fact that exactly two years before, Zhol had arrived in Wind Reach after his exodus from his first home. Zhol paid the day no particular mind, but after the fuss that he had made on Khara's birthday back in winter, she had insisted that she be allowed a day to pour affection on Zhol, all in the interests of balance and fairness. Not wanting to have attention drawn to the day of his birth - a day that stood mostly as a reminder of being forced from his family, and of the twin who was no longer constantly beside him - he had instead sacrificed this day, this lesser event, for Khara to do with as she wished. In truth, he'd hoped that she would forget; but she hadn't, and despite Zhol's determination to not allow the day to feel even remotely important, Khara's eagerness had been too formidable for his stubbornness to stand a chance. She'd won him over even; a little bit, at least. He didn't quite feel special the way that people were apparently supposed to on birthdays and such things, but what he felt was better: he felt wanted, loved, and cared about; he could see how much he mattered every time he looked in Khara's eyes, and that was a far better kind of special.
Of course, things weren't quite as elaborate as Khara might have wanted them to be; Zhol's obligations at the stables had made sure of that. He knew she'd been a little disappointed when he'd revealed that they wouldn't be able to spend the entire day together as she'd hoped; and yet she had stubbornly managed to work around that limitation, lurking at the stables for as much of the day as last night's overzealous consumption of wine had allowed. Secretly, Zhol had liked this better than if they'd spent the entire day doing "special" things; the only problem with an average day in his life was the lack of time spent with Khara, and today rectified it. Today was perfect; perfectly normal, at that.
But then there was this: their excursion this evening to a part of the city that Zhol had never visited before. Unlike the lakes, it hadn't been ignorance that kept him away; he'd just never been drawn to the Inclement Weather. He heard stories of the sorts of things that happened there, but never really paid them much mind; while such antics didn't appeal to him personally, he had no judgements against anyone who felt differently. But Khara had explained that this was how the Inarta she knew often celebrated birthdays and such things - a drink in the Inclement Weather. What better way to celebrate his arrival in Wind Reach than to celebrate it in a typically Wind Reach way?
One thing had led to another though, and Zhol had made a foolish step too far. Jokingly, he'd suggested that if they were going to act like typical Inara, then maybe he should go the whole way - shrug off his ordinary outsider clothes, and dress the way the Inarta did; make himself look as at home as his too tall and not ginger enough body could manage. Whether Khara had realised he hadn't been entirely serious or not, he didn't know, but the look on her face when he'd said it - that utterly pleased surprise - made it impossible for him to back down. So here he was, wearing pants that were far too baggy to be practical, and a shirt that was non-existent, about to find out first hand what the Inarta apparently did for fun. After two years of trotting tentatively into Wind Reach's culture, here he was skipping a stride and leaping straight into a full-blown gallop.
He forced his hand to fall away from his chest, waving it through the air beside him briefly until it managed to ensnare Khara's fingers. He mustered a smile that he hoped seemed confident, letting it settle across his feature as his gaze sought out her eyes. "I love you," he said quietly, his fingers squeezing gently around hers.
Zhol scratched at the bare skin over his collar bone, a subconscious attempt in vain to subtly hide himself from view. Whether it had any affect on the attention of others, he didn't know; but it certainly affected his attention, reminding him once again of what he was wearing... or rather, what he wasn't.
It had seemed like such a good idea at the time; such a sweet idea, even. It was the fifty-third day of spring: an ordinary day by all accounts, made remarkable only by the fact that exactly two years before, Zhol had arrived in Wind Reach after his exodus from his first home. Zhol paid the day no particular mind, but after the fuss that he had made on Khara's birthday back in winter, she had insisted that she be allowed a day to pour affection on Zhol, all in the interests of balance and fairness. Not wanting to have attention drawn to the day of his birth - a day that stood mostly as a reminder of being forced from his family, and of the twin who was no longer constantly beside him - he had instead sacrificed this day, this lesser event, for Khara to do with as she wished. In truth, he'd hoped that she would forget; but she hadn't, and despite Zhol's determination to not allow the day to feel even remotely important, Khara's eagerness had been too formidable for his stubbornness to stand a chance. She'd won him over even; a little bit, at least. He didn't quite feel special the way that people were apparently supposed to on birthdays and such things, but what he felt was better: he felt wanted, loved, and cared about; he could see how much he mattered every time he looked in Khara's eyes, and that was a far better kind of special.
Of course, things weren't quite as elaborate as Khara might have wanted them to be; Zhol's obligations at the stables had made sure of that. He knew she'd been a little disappointed when he'd revealed that they wouldn't be able to spend the entire day together as she'd hoped; and yet she had stubbornly managed to work around that limitation, lurking at the stables for as much of the day as last night's overzealous consumption of wine had allowed. Secretly, Zhol had liked this better than if they'd spent the entire day doing "special" things; the only problem with an average day in his life was the lack of time spent with Khara, and today rectified it. Today was perfect; perfectly normal, at that.
But then there was this: their excursion this evening to a part of the city that Zhol had never visited before. Unlike the lakes, it hadn't been ignorance that kept him away; he'd just never been drawn to the Inclement Weather. He heard stories of the sorts of things that happened there, but never really paid them much mind; while such antics didn't appeal to him personally, he had no judgements against anyone who felt differently. But Khara had explained that this was how the Inarta she knew often celebrated birthdays and such things - a drink in the Inclement Weather. What better way to celebrate his arrival in Wind Reach than to celebrate it in a typically Wind Reach way?
One thing had led to another though, and Zhol had made a foolish step too far. Jokingly, he'd suggested that if they were going to act like typical Inara, then maybe he should go the whole way - shrug off his ordinary outsider clothes, and dress the way the Inarta did; make himself look as at home as his too tall and not ginger enough body could manage. Whether Khara had realised he hadn't been entirely serious or not, he didn't know, but the look on her face when he'd said it - that utterly pleased surprise - made it impossible for him to back down. So here he was, wearing pants that were far too baggy to be practical, and a shirt that was non-existent, about to find out first hand what the Inarta apparently did for fun. After two years of trotting tentatively into Wind Reach's culture, here he was skipping a stride and leaping straight into a full-blown gallop.
He forced his hand to fall away from his chest, waving it through the air beside him briefly until it managed to ensnare Khara's fingers. He mustered a smile that he hoped seemed confident, letting it settle across his feature as his gaze sought out her eyes. "I love you," he said quietly, his fingers squeezing gently around hers.
"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
Dad Thoughts | Dinah Thoughts | Khara Thoughts
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This template was made by Khara, the letter Q, and the numbers 87 and 13.