Word Count » 330 :: Bah, i do not like this post ¬.¬
The distinctive sound of nearby footsteps had the scarred male’s eyes open, searching for whomever was nearby; he assumed that whomever was approaching was a member of the family, for no intruder would be skilled enough, nor stupid enough to venture so deep into Salsola territory and still be walking. Moments latter, a string of harsh words broke the small bubble of peace he had found within the darkness. Looking up upon the golden female from his lowered position upon the ground, the Arbiter silently listened as she scolding him, hers words bringing forth memories of slavery and pain. Temptation lay before him; he was no longer some meek slave who could do nothing but obey and his weapon hung by his side, eager to taste the blood of another victim. Regretfully, a memory of the founding night reminded him that the one before him was not of low rank and thus deserved respect. Killing her would be more effort than it is worth, I’ll let your words pass, for now…
“Unless ya ‘ave someone ya wish for me ta execute, my Crone, then I ‘ave little to do at this moment” the sentence was spoken with no emotion, but he choose to elaborate his speech in an attempt to point out to the other, in a subtle manner, that he was no slave and that although he may be lower ranked, he was no weakling. Cautiously, he propped himself up into a seated position, making sure to keep his eyes from meeting the golden female’s. Bastion would be displeased if he showed weakness and submission to another, but the games of dominance and power were a thin tight rope. One small screw up and he and the angelic one may be exiled or killed; if it was just his life at risk, he would have harmed the Crone for her words despite her rank, but he had the child to protect and so he kept himself tightly in check.
