strength in numbers

Micah Sunrise Lykoi · 06-22-2011, 01:59 PM

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Sage, learning to fight? Micah did not find himself exactly disturbed by the notion; he had always hoped his sisters would shape themselves up one day and learn the basics of defending themselves, if nothing else. In his eyes — and his father's, no doubt — they were each delicate flowers, beautiful to look upon and easy to manipulate and warp. True, the nervous runt that he was had never learned to fight either, as he had stupidly unveiled, and perhaps he was the most vulnerable a target than his sisters in actuality. After all, at least their carried themselves with some dignity: Micah could only cower and stammer in the face of strangers. An easy target, no doubt.

Perhaps if he'd had more dignity himself, he would have requested similar lessons from someone, but whom was he to learn from? Cercatori was full of artisans and merchants, a group of people least likely to know how to carry themselves in combat. Micah himself was a rather prime example.

The salt-and-pepper boy hesitated clearly at the question, eyes wide as the Aquila's gold stare locked with his own. Anxiety peaking, Micah remained in that trance a long moment before very suddenly breaking away and bobbing himself in the forehead with a fist, mumbling "stupid, stupid" beneath his breath with each scolding tap. He did this a moment longer, then peered a desperate and fearful glance at Ezekiel. "I-I-I can't talk about it," he stammered.

table by lin

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