and horror in the halls of stone
“That’s true,” Jahin agrees, his lips slowly twitching into a half-smile. The golden fellow does have a valid point. “The Davke are especially talented drinkers. Among other less savory activities...like pillaging and plundering... But he doesn’t mention that; he feels the burn of the finely dressed stallions down the bar glaring his way when they hear the word Davke. Ah, probably should have kept his mouth shut as most folk don’t take too kindly to his particular heritage. Oh well. The drink has loosened his tongue and provides Jahin with a shield of confidence and I don’t give a fuck that he would not normally otherwise exude.
His indigo eyes glaze over as he recalls the more reckless, belligerent days of his youth and the memories of dancing around a roaring desert bonfire among his people beneath a vast, endless sky glittering with stars. Jahin has always been the sterner, serious sort, even as a child, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to throw down and have a good time back in the day when he was young, dumb, and full of raging testosterone that fueled all manners of ridiculous endeavors. But Jahin has long since mellowed since those days. On nights like these, lost in a nostalgic haze of memory, he misses the fire that had burned so brightly within him as a young warrior stallion.
For now the fleeting, emboldening burn of the drink in his belly will have to do.
“You speak wise words, friend.” He doesn’t know if it is the pleasant haze of the drink clouding his mind or simply the unexpected kindness from a stranger, but Jahin feels marginally better; probably a combination of both. He knows he will have to face reality again in the morning but it’s nice to pretend, even if for a moment, that everything is alright.
“I’m Jahin. Are you from, as you put it, this insufferable city?” Jahin eyes the stranger curiously, his gaze lingering briefly once more on the unique beetle tattoo on his shoulder. He motions to it. “I know someone with the same mark” Jahin hasn’t spoken to Aghvani in any real capacity yet, but he is keenly interested to know what connection the golden stranger may have with her. Jahin still has much to learn about the city and the many different factions and houses that operate within the towering walls. “Are you in some kind of cult?” Perhaps not a question most people ask upon first meeting but then again Jahin has always had a way with words.
J A H I N
look at last on meadows green
and trees and hills they long have known
His indigo eyes glaze over as he recalls the more reckless, belligerent days of his youth and the memories of dancing around a roaring desert bonfire among his people beneath a vast, endless sky glittering with stars. Jahin has always been the sterner, serious sort, even as a child, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to throw down and have a good time back in the day when he was young, dumb, and full of raging testosterone that fueled all manners of ridiculous endeavors. But Jahin has long since mellowed since those days. On nights like these, lost in a nostalgic haze of memory, he misses the fire that had burned so brightly within him as a young warrior stallion.
For now the fleeting, emboldening burn of the drink in his belly will have to do.
“You speak wise words, friend.” He doesn’t know if it is the pleasant haze of the drink clouding his mind or simply the unexpected kindness from a stranger, but Jahin feels marginally better; probably a combination of both. He knows he will have to face reality again in the morning but it’s nice to pretend, even if for a moment, that everything is alright.
“I’m Jahin. Are you from, as you put it, this insufferable city?” Jahin eyes the stranger curiously, his gaze lingering briefly once more on the unique beetle tattoo on his shoulder. He motions to it. “I know someone with the same mark” Jahin hasn’t spoken to Aghvani in any real capacity yet, but he is keenly interested to know what connection the golden stranger may have with her. Jahin still has much to learn about the city and the many different factions and houses that operate within the towering walls. “Are you in some kind of cult?” Perhaps not a question most people ask upon first meeting but then again Jahin has always had a way with words.
look at last on meadows green
and trees and hills they long have known
@August gosh damn i'm on the struggle bus today, i promise the next one will be better
