the sound of cannons
breaking open the sky
breaking open the sky
He didn't rise to the challenge her words presented to him. No, instead he simply tipped his head in thought, letting her know that he recognized what she was saying and was taking them into consideration.
He took that contest, examined it, and carefully compared her words to what he had always seen within the two binaries he always used to distinguish between one belonging and not.
Perhaps to the lands, the wild and unruly places left untamed and free of any significant structures to mark them as inhabited, they were what she said. But to individuals? No, they were not that. People did not work that way.
Besides, in the end, no matter how much one might wish differently it was not the land that controlled the people, it was the other way around. The land could take, was far stronger and something to fear more, but people were just—
His ear closest to her tipped in her direction, listening to her detached laugh. He had a feeling that, if he ever had the privilege to cross paths with her again, that single emphasized word would become something of a joke between them—maybe; hopefully. This is only a wishful thing, one given a breath of life by the tinge of playfulness he heard in her voice. Although, it was hidden behind what seemed like miles of barbed wires and barren earth.
Nonetheless, it was still there.
He agreed with what she said, wondering on her thoughts, ideas, between the difference in wandering and being a wanderer. What, to Hälla, designated one as a wanderer, or one as simply wandering? Yes, he was capable of gathering some of what she thought but what else? It's a discussion he can say he's never had with another, and he finds himself thinking that, perhaps, he should.
Brought from these musing occurring at the back of his mind, he slants his head down towards hers, brow rising up at her question.
"Why not take an small opportunity when it is presented to you?" He means nothing by his answering question, does not mean to challenge her. "I need no answer because I have no right to one, but if you were to give me one I would appreciate it." Sincere and soft, it made no difference if she chose to answer him or not.
When she did, though, he did as he said he would. He valued her answer, listened attentively.
Didn't even think of asking why she had been imprisoned—he had no right to ask, no right to judge. Now when he is guilty of much.
("You were supposed to help me, not throw me away and forget about me! You left me there to rot."
"...I did.")
He swallows past the unexpected tightness in his throat, inhaling the scorching air of the land and wishing it would burn some of the memories away. Things didn't work that way, however.
"Well, if that is your aim, might I propose doing so in a more moderate place?" He suggested, speaking easily past the parched feeling he felt in his throat. "Unless you do wish to continue traversing the sands. However, if not, I would happily guide you back to the plains that border this place." Additionally, Avallac'h does believe it would be best for him not to spend a night beneath the vast, cold sky of this place.
He would find little sleep, wishing for the silhouette of wings and the crackling of flames.
Coming to a gentle stop, he gestures with his head in the direction he knows the plains to be. "Besides, I do recall you wish to get away from this 'hellish place,' yes?"
Speech
@Hälla
He took that contest, examined it, and carefully compared her words to what he had always seen within the two binaries he always used to distinguish between one belonging and not.
Perhaps to the lands, the wild and unruly places left untamed and free of any significant structures to mark them as inhabited, they were what she said. But to individuals? No, they were not that. People did not work that way.
Besides, in the end, no matter how much one might wish differently it was not the land that controlled the people, it was the other way around. The land could take, was far stronger and something to fear more, but people were just—
His ear closest to her tipped in her direction, listening to her detached laugh. He had a feeling that, if he ever had the privilege to cross paths with her again, that single emphasized word would become something of a joke between them—maybe; hopefully. This is only a wishful thing, one given a breath of life by the tinge of playfulness he heard in her voice. Although, it was hidden behind what seemed like miles of barbed wires and barren earth.
Nonetheless, it was still there.
He agreed with what she said, wondering on her thoughts, ideas, between the difference in wandering and being a wanderer. What, to Hälla, designated one as a wanderer, or one as simply wandering? Yes, he was capable of gathering some of what she thought but what else? It's a discussion he can say he's never had with another, and he finds himself thinking that, perhaps, he should.
Brought from these musing occurring at the back of his mind, he slants his head down towards hers, brow rising up at her question.
"Why not take an small opportunity when it is presented to you?" He means nothing by his answering question, does not mean to challenge her. "I need no answer because I have no right to one, but if you were to give me one I would appreciate it." Sincere and soft, it made no difference if she chose to answer him or not.
When she did, though, he did as he said he would. He valued her answer, listened attentively.
Didn't even think of asking why she had been imprisoned—he had no right to ask, no right to judge. Now when he is guilty of much.
("You were supposed to help me, not throw me away and forget about me! You left me there to rot."
"...I did.")
He swallows past the unexpected tightness in his throat, inhaling the scorching air of the land and wishing it would burn some of the memories away. Things didn't work that way, however.
"Well, if that is your aim, might I propose doing so in a more moderate place?" He suggested, speaking easily past the parched feeling he felt in his throat. "Unless you do wish to continue traversing the sands. However, if not, I would happily guide you back to the plains that border this place." Additionally, Avallac'h does believe it would be best for him not to spend a night beneath the vast, cold sky of this place.
He would find little sleep, wishing for the silhouette of wings and the crackling of flames.
Coming to a gentle stop, he gestures with his head in the direction he knows the plains to be. "Besides, I do recall you wish to get away from this 'hellish place,' yes?"
@Hälla
