oceans and full moons

Attila Aston · 05-22-2010, 09:20 AM

[html]

The change in Markku's space had been entirely his own decision; there had been no input from Attila whatsoever. After the small bird he'd adopted had been killed and a corresponding sleepless night, Attila had emerged from his den the next morning to find the barn owl alive again, staring down at him from the tree that stretched over his den. The sight had nearly stopped his heart. Markku explained his reasoning, claiming that the change not only made movement more convenient for he, but was a constant reminder to Attila what happened when he let his guard down and allowed his boyish tendencies to distract him from the responsibilities he had in life. Although the Aston boy had not taken appropriate strides to change his ways, the reminders still rang in his head.

"He's just moody," Attila concluded, furrowing his brows. He and the owl typically got along marvelously, but their occasional bouts sometimes lasted for days on end before the two made up. Rurik continued on about the spirit and his house and his homeland, and although the Aston boy was thoroughly interested, guilt loomed in the heart of his chest and his iced eyes glanced occasionally at the treetops where Markku had disappeared.

He offered some cracked smile at Rurik, lacking some of the youthful spirit he had harbored before with the onslaught of guilt. Attila had never fit into any type of stereotypical drunk—he was not wild, nor manic depressive when intoxicated. His borders and guards fell when the sickness seeped in and his words were loose and humorous, but the boy changed little from the charade he typically carried himself with. "You must have good taste," he grinned, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts in his head. "I was born here... nothing happens. Not worth your time staying if you don't wanna get tangled up in spirits and ghosts."

Login




Remember me Lost Password?