No promises to keep

Strelein von Rosnete · 07-04-2012, 09:56 PM

[html]

422
I need new tables, blahblaah. Also have permission from Shaw about Niro reading the note.

A letter had come to the Court, from the Tribe. There was nothing familiar with the scrawl on the paper and he had sought Niro. The man was reliable, that was for sure. The last note he had read for the tailor had been sad and worrisome, though this one was more troubling than anything else. He had sat on that note for a good long while, letting the information stew. Niro had read him the note and Strel's jaw had clenched instantly. It was so strange, though he could understand why the boy had pushed him away. Ahiga did not appreciate his family abandoning him, and he was clearly still hurting about it all. But he was pushing away the only person who knew exactly how he felt, and was angry at the same people. It confused him, but he could understand it at the core.

Ahiga was young still, and it was all probably confusing. He was a child growing into adult without the guidance of someone who had been through it all. Strel might not have been anyone's ideal role model or the first person that they would go to for advice, but who else did Ahiga happen to have? And Sebastian? That worried him more. Having met the man, and seen his strangely sexual yet not paintings, Strel did not think that Ahiga new what he was getting himself into. The easy way the man had flirted at the caravan's visit did not spell a man reserved with his affections. Any parent would worry for a son with such a man. And since Ahiga lacked that, maybe the Dauphin was the next best thing. Someone had to look out for him, young as he was.

He decided that he had to talk to the boy. He said not to worry or visit, but Strel knew better. There was probably plenty that Strel could do for him, if Ahiga let him. He left the Court around noon and managed to make it to Casa by evening. It had been a good trek for him, considering he hoofed it on two legs and took enough breaks. He did not want to seem remotely sweaty and disheveled, even if he really was. At the borders, he called out for his once-nephew, waiting with a rather weary look about him. If he had a horse, it might be different. But he and horses were not friends. Regardless, he waited on the edge, well aware of the etiquette here.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?