02-04-2011, 07:41 AM
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A boy’s first love is his mother. Ezekiel did not subscribe to this fact. His mother had left him, and the woman he knew as his godmother had duties beyond his world. So his love had all been given to the first woman in his life, his twin, his sister, and he had loved her as much as he could any living thing. The blonde boy smiled at her laugh, for it reassured him she would not be taken from him by another man yet. Dimly he thought of Siobhan, but he dismissed the anger. The one who mattered was here, before him.
For one instance he thought of the journey he had made and considered telling her everything. Yet the scars over his eye ached, causing him to wink at her and smile as if nothing was wrong. One could not deny that the boy was a great pretender. “Oh, a few,” he admitted, brushing his hair away from his face with one hand. “I spent some time a little further north, way west of here. Picked up a little bit of their language. Spent some time with Uncle Tristan. Nothing all that exciting.” He would not burden her with the thought of war. That would be too much for her.
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For one instance he thought of the journey he had made and considered telling her everything. Yet the scars over his eye ached, causing him to wink at her and smile as if nothing was wrong. One could not deny that the boy was a great pretender. “Oh, a few,” he admitted, brushing his hair away from his face with one hand. “I spent some time a little further north, way west of here. Picked up a little bit of their language. Spent some time with Uncle Tristan. Nothing all that exciting.” He would not burden her with the thought of war. That would be too much for her.