Lilac gaze drifted away, imagining frozen waters and brilliant countries filled with snow and ice. Although Conor’s coat was designed mainly to outlast biting cold, the soul hidden within the body yearned for warmer seasons without much cold. He had been born the month were things started to warm up and rediscover life. He had not yet lived to get a full impression of winter, but he had already made up his mind. Summer and autumn brought dazzling colours and an overflow of game to bask in. The best parts of his short life had been spent in the sun and he craved more – slightly disappointed that autumn too was coming to an end these days, just like his childhood.
To sail on the icy sea for so long seemed absolutely surreal to the boy. How did they survive? Obviously they brought provision and water, but the fact that this male had done it was hard to grasp. He had barely gotten hold of an image of a courageous Rurik on the sea before it vanished. It felt oddly hard to concentrate properly. The cinnamon and gold boy realized that he was not particularly bothered about this. Instead he was reminded that he was on a boat riding on the river and that the ride was to become even more bumpy. The majority of the fair had fled the scene by now. He actually felt a flush of excitement bloom on his creamy cheeks. Whoaa, he was on a boat.
Speed increased and the boy lost some of his intense confidence. Instead of holding on to the bench he was sitting on, he decided to attach to what seemed to be the steadiest object on the boat – the captain. ”Whoa, what if we craaash, Captain Rurik?” he whined, though not really terrified either. He knew he should be, but the layer of calm soothed the poor nerves. The expression on his face was still a grin and not a frown.
| Messages In This Thread |