rise and resurrect
☼
He has seen many faces; he remembers many faces. The face of a long lost brother, the faces of the wonderful woman he calls daughters, the face of one her wrongfully imprisoned—
The faces of those he has killed.
He recalls each as if he carries images of them in a hidden seam of his cloak. He has memorized them just as he once memorized the prayer the enslaved mage who taught him all he knew asked him to remember. They were branded into his mind, seared, and made to never be forgotten.
It's why, no matter how brief this interaction might go, the moment Avallac'h's eyes fall on the approaching individual he knows he won't forget them.
Because each face is unique and each is important.
Standing a hand shorter than he, Avallac'h notes the fresh blooms that impersonate the laurel wreaths so many in the Court once wore. The appearance the flowers lend this individual, however, is a much more welcoming one. With the mild rays of the sun refracting from the piercings the other wears, Avallac'h shifts, opening his body up to the other and showing that all of his attention is on them.
At the gentle greeting the other gives (one that is cordial and warm) a subtle, friendly smile turns up Avallac'h's lips.
Now, it's been some time (months— years, perhaps) since Avallac'h has last spoken to another. And even then the last individual he had spoken to had been none other than the beloved griffin whose blazing wings had given his heart the warmth it so dearly needed. Even then, the language he had spoken to her in was not of the common tongue. No, it had been that of the place he was born. One that was composed of letters that flowed like a gentle river that led out to the sea.
Maybe this is why the accent he gained when speaking that language slightly bled through. Maybe that's why he felt a little more uncertain.
However, Avallac'h is a man that knew how to interact with others; he knew how to maintain a conversation and hide any doubts. It had been a necessary thing to figure out when he had been younger.
That is why he easily greets the other in return.
"Hello there," he began, "might I be able to help you with something?" He asked sincerely, always the type of man to lend any help that he can; always the one to try and go beyond what might be required to help another. He wouldn't turn away from a stranger possibly in need. Then, "Or are you out for a simple stroll?" The corners of his eyes crinkled, helping to portray the lightheartedness of his words. After all, it was a rather nice day. The plains were quiet and serene — calming.
So different from where he had been before, more alive, but still not what his heart truly wanted.
Avallac'h turns his gaze back towards the plains. "Today is one of the better days for a walk — in my opinion, anyway." He thoughtfully comments in an offhanded manner, lips twitching further up by just a hair before relaxing back into that kind smile.
Speech
@Ipomoea
The faces of those he has killed.
He recalls each as if he carries images of them in a hidden seam of his cloak. He has memorized them just as he once memorized the prayer the enslaved mage who taught him all he knew asked him to remember. They were branded into his mind, seared, and made to never be forgotten.
It's why, no matter how brief this interaction might go, the moment Avallac'h's eyes fall on the approaching individual he knows he won't forget them.
Because each face is unique and each is important.
Standing a hand shorter than he, Avallac'h notes the fresh blooms that impersonate the laurel wreaths so many in the Court once wore. The appearance the flowers lend this individual, however, is a much more welcoming one. With the mild rays of the sun refracting from the piercings the other wears, Avallac'h shifts, opening his body up to the other and showing that all of his attention is on them.
At the gentle greeting the other gives (one that is cordial and warm) a subtle, friendly smile turns up Avallac'h's lips.
Now, it's been some time (months— years, perhaps) since Avallac'h has last spoken to another. And even then the last individual he had spoken to had been none other than the beloved griffin whose blazing wings had given his heart the warmth it so dearly needed. Even then, the language he had spoken to her in was not of the common tongue. No, it had been that of the place he was born. One that was composed of letters that flowed like a gentle river that led out to the sea.
Maybe this is why the accent he gained when speaking that language slightly bled through. Maybe that's why he felt a little more uncertain.
However, Avallac'h is a man that knew how to interact with others; he knew how to maintain a conversation and hide any doubts. It had been a necessary thing to figure out when he had been younger.
That is why he easily greets the other in return.
"Hello there," he began, "might I be able to help you with something?" He asked sincerely, always the type of man to lend any help that he can; always the one to try and go beyond what might be required to help another. He wouldn't turn away from a stranger possibly in need. Then, "Or are you out for a simple stroll?" The corners of his eyes crinkled, helping to portray the lightheartedness of his words. After all, it was a rather nice day. The plains were quiet and serene — calming.
So different from where he had been before, more alive, but still not what his heart truly wanted.
Avallac'h turns his gaze back towards the plains. "Today is one of the better days for a walk — in my opinion, anyway." He thoughtfully comments in an offhanded manner, lips twitching further up by just a hair before relaxing back into that kind smile.
@Ipomoea
