01-29-2012, 03:31 AM
He chuckled softly, thinking of how endearing she was. “Monochrome, you mean,” he said, proud that he had something to teach her and that she might appreciate it. “Monotone is for sounds. Monochrome is for paintings and colors – one color, or shades of gray.” He winked, trying to give her the tidbit of information without sounding like he was insulting her or thought he was better than her.
“I'm not totally sure, but I bet there is white, too. What else did they make the colors from? But there's only one way to find out. It's quite a ways off but the path is pretty straightforward and simple. Let's go take a look,” he held out his hand for her to take, if she accepted. “Shall we? I'll show you the way.”
He smiled when she placed her hands in his. What a trusting girl, the thought and the touch sent little tingles of excitement through him. It had been a long time since he spent any quality time with a woman. He led her through the forest, away from where she said her pack was because he didn't want their time together to be interrupted. He tried to talk about inane things on the way, things that were a bit neutral and that wouldn't get him into trouble. He didn't want to risk her deciding that she didn't like him and leave him there, not after he found the company. So he spoke of the weather, of the cold, of the trees and of the hunt.
Finally they came to a place on the path where the trees parted to make a miniature clearing, and in that clearing stood a lone wooden shanty, somewhat decayed by the touch of time. He tried to hide his surprise at the fact that they had actually come upon some place in the wilderness. There was no shed full of paint anywhere, and he had only intended to lead her around, possibly pretend to get lost when she finally realized he wasn't actually producing any great paradise of paint.
“Oh,” he muttered, looking upon the shack and tilting his head. He narrowed his eyes as if really inspecting it. “I can't remember if this is it or not. It looks a little... different...”
((wc 387 - pp preapproved))
“I'm not totally sure, but I bet there is white, too. What else did they make the colors from? But there's only one way to find out. It's quite a ways off but the path is pretty straightforward and simple. Let's go take a look,” he held out his hand for her to take, if she accepted. “Shall we? I'll show you the way.”
He smiled when she placed her hands in his. What a trusting girl, the thought and the touch sent little tingles of excitement through him. It had been a long time since he spent any quality time with a woman. He led her through the forest, away from where she said her pack was because he didn't want their time together to be interrupted. He tried to talk about inane things on the way, things that were a bit neutral and that wouldn't get him into trouble. He didn't want to risk her deciding that she didn't like him and leave him there, not after he found the company. So he spoke of the weather, of the cold, of the trees and of the hunt.
Finally they came to a place on the path where the trees parted to make a miniature clearing, and in that clearing stood a lone wooden shanty, somewhat decayed by the touch of time. He tried to hide his surprise at the fact that they had actually come upon some place in the wilderness. There was no shed full of paint anywhere, and he had only intended to lead her around, possibly pretend to get lost when she finally realized he wasn't actually producing any great paradise of paint.
“Oh,” he muttered, looking upon the shack and tilting his head. He narrowed his eyes as if really inspecting it. “I can't remember if this is it or not. It looks a little... different...”
((wc 387 - pp preapproved))